Her Lady's Maid
by LolaVerdigris
Summary: After the fall of Munchkinland, Elphaba is forced to work as a lady's maid for Princess Galinda Upland. She's never met someone as beautiful as the Princess nor as cruel. Will Elphaba survive Galinda's lustful advances or will the Princess ruin her? Dark Gelphie. AU Fairy Tale.
1. Chapter 1

**Dear Readers,**

Here's a fairy tale about Elphaba and Galinda. It's been in my head for a while and I'm finally sharing it. I hope you enjoy it. I look forward to hearing your thoughts, suggestions, and impressions.

But, first a few caveats... **  
**This is a dark taboo Gelphie romance as many of you have requested. It contains strong scenes of non-consent throughout. Within the fairy tale genre, this is much closer to a Grimm fairy tale than a Disney one. If your taste veers toward the vanilla, you may want to read something else. For those who choose to read this, I will do my best to post warnings on the chapters that are really dark in case you want to skip over those parts. Also, as the backgrounds of our favorite witches are different than _Wicked_ , I've kept the two ladies as true to character as possible while also leaving room for how they might be different considering their different circumstances. In short, some may find Galinda intolerable for the first several chapters, hopefully she won't stay that way.

For those new readers who just stumbled across this, thank you for reading!

To those of you who read my last story, _Activities Between Friends_ , and reviewed, favorited, or followed, thank you for coming back! This story is dedicated to all of you!

Xoxo,

Lola

 **Disclaimer:** I own none of the characters Gregory Maguire dreamed up in his fan fiction _Wicked_ ...nor any of L. Frank Baum's characters.

* * *

Elphaba told herself gouging his eyes out was not an option. King Upland lifted her chin with an ivory measuring stick, moving it this way and that, while scrunching his lips.

"My Oz! She's ugly enough—that's certain!" he said. The King and his servant continued to belittle her skin, her dress, her weight, her hooked nose as if she wasn't staring straight at them, her chin square to the horizon.

She inhaled to calm herself. _If I get the position, Nessarose will have a chance._ Her sister's shoulders had shook all night as she sobbed. Elphaba hands had blistered as she pushed Nessa for hours. Under the cover of darkness, they fled Colwen Grounds with their brother and a single trunk of possessions. They left everything behind, including their father's unburied body. She would make it up to Nessarose. They hadn't come all this way just to starve. King Upland's hubris wouldn't get the better of her. She only need to stand here, smiling like an idiot, for a few moments longer and the position would be hers.

"—mouth."

What did the King say? Elphaba blinked, her heartbeat quickening. "Did you hear, girl? His Majesty said open your mouth!" the servant said.

Elphaba's jaw twitched. Open her mouth? Did they mean to inspect her like a horse?

"Now, girl!" the servant said.

Elphaba parted her lips, but before her jaw fully dropped, the King plugged her orifice with two sausage fingers. Elphaba's eyes swelled. She breathed through her nose, trying not to dry heave as the King counted her teeth and pressed down on her tongue. His fingers tasted of bitter melon, sweat, and cloves **.** Just when Elphaba thought she would retch, the King removed his fingers and held them in the air. The servant wiped them with a silk handkerchief.

"She's got all her teeth," the King noted surprised.

Elphaba regretted she hadn't used any of them to gnaw off his fingers.

"She was supposedly of noble birth before the annexation of Munchkinland," the servant said.

"Is that so? Do you know how to use cutlery, girl?" the King asked.

Squeezing her skirt in her fists, Elphaba forced a smile and said,

"I do, Your Majesty."

"Frankly, I'm surprised she was ever allowed to sit at the table, noblewoman or not. A face such as hers is clearly unsuitable for digestion," the King said.

Elphaba grit her teeth.

"We could have her wear a veil for dinners," the servant said.

"Or a leather and iron bridle," the King suggested.

"I don't imagine she should sing properly if we muzzled her," the servant said.

The King chuckled and Elphaba's nostrils flared as she tried keep her composure.

"I suppose you're right, Crope. A suitable veil then during dinnertimes," the King said and then turned to Elphaba, "In addition to singing, I've heard you possess skills in archery as well?"

"Yes, sir," Elphaba said.

"Very well, then," King Upland said, "Her appearance makes her a suitable lady's maid to Princess Galinda and her art makes her presence pleasurable to the rest of us. Now, Crope you're sure that her condition can't spread?"

"Yes, Your Majesty. I've had two laundry maids rub their hands up and down her arms for hours, no color dyed their fingers."

"Very good then. I know Princess Galinda may struggle with this, but I'm sure Elphaba will be able to demonstrate her worth to us all in time."

Pasting on a smile once more, Elphaba curtsied and said,

"I am most grateful for the chance, Your Majesty. I will do my utmost."

"We expect no less," Crope said. "Come, let me hand you off to Nanny. She'll find suitable attire for you and show you to your living quarters."

Elphaba followed Crope out of the parlor. Her relief at getting the position of lady's maid was replaced with a rising dread at having to face a whole new group of servants. No matter where she went in Oz many still assumed her green coloring was the result of demon-possession. Would they demand proof she was clean? Would they make her recite passages of the Blessed Oziad? Try to baptize her with holy water? Would they want to see her strip naked as they had in Quadling Country?

Gusts of cold air blew through the crevices of the thick stone walls, making Elphaba shiver as she followed Crope down several steep twisting staircases. As her foot hit the first large stone slab of the underground floor, she steeled herself for the inevitable pokes, prodding, and insults. But none came. A large kitchen lay before Elphaba where servants bustled about and shouted orders. No one had time to even crook their neck in her direction. At the sight of the flurrying servants, mostly Gillikinese, Elphaba exhaled through her nose. There was no turning back. There wasn't even a back to return to.

"It took you long enough, Crope!" said an older Munchkinland woman coming out of the kitchen wiping her hands off on a towel. "The Princess has waited quite some time to be introduced to her new lady's maid and is in a right sour mood."

Elphaba braced herself for the older woman to wince at the sight of her, but when the woman turned to Elphaba, she smiled and bowed her head. A smile and a bow? Was the older woman's sight impaired? Elphaba returned the gesture.

Crope, motioning with his head toward Elphaba, said, "The King had to inspect it personally and make sure it wouldn't endanger the Princess."

"Endanger Princess Galinda—ha! Elphaba's green skin is less abrasive than the Princess' sharp tongue!"

"Nanny!" Crope warned. The older woman didn't look the least intimidated. She breathed loudly through her nose and said,

"Come now, Your Eminence, after we find a suitable dress and apron, I'll take you to Her Royal Highness."

Elphaba's eyebrows rose at the address.

"Your Eminence?!" Crope asked.

"She's the descending Thropp of the royal Munchkinland family!" Nanny said raising her chin.

"Pigspittle, Nanny! There is no Munchkinland royal family anymore! You may feel whichever way you want about your homeland, but referring to anyone but King Upland as the rightful ruler of Munchkinland is treasonous and Mrs. Morrible will have your head for it! You will address—this thing—as either Elphaba or Miss Thropp," Crope said, his fists mounting his hips.

Nanny sucked her tooth and said, "That gorgon doesn't scare me a bit!"

"Easy to say when she's not around," Crope answered.

Nanny hmfped and walking away from Crope toward another staircase said,

"Come, Miss Thropp, away from this spineless man!"

"I heard that!" Crope said as Elphaba followed after the woman.

"I wasn't whispering!" Nanny said ascending out of sight.

Following Nanny up the staircase, Elphaba couldn't remember a time when someone appeared happy to lay eyes on her. Even if the woman's pleasantness was only due to Elphaba's royal birth, she appreciated the older woman, gruffness and all. Nanny led her down a corridor with lancet windows to a servant's closet as she gossiped about all the castle attendants: Crope, the Butler, appreciated lady's undergarments; Mrs. Morrible, the head housekeeper, was shamelessly in love with King Upland and only grew more shameless after the Queen's death; Shenshen, a lady's maid to Princess Galinda's cousin Lady Milla, brazenly flirted with all the male guests. Opening the closet door, Elphaba followed Nanny into the spacious room, where the afternoon sunlight poured from a high fixed window. Unlocking a maple wood armoire, Nanny plucked out a butter colored dress and a fresh white apron. Handing them to Elphaba, the older woman beamed proudly and said,

"These just arrived last week from Mrs. Tyllr."

Before Elphaba could thank her, Nanny went on to say how honored she was to meet a member of the royal family. How grateful she was that Boq had recommended Elphaba to them, how Her Eminence should come to her if she should need anything, then noticing Elphaba had yet to change, said,

"Well, hurry now, Your Eminence, we do have to meet Her Royal Highness sometime today."

Elphaba looked down at the new clothes and said,

"May I have a moment in private?"

"Shy, are we?" Nanny asked.

Elphaba raised her head, her lips tensing. Nanny's smirk turned into an apologetic bow and she scooted out of the closet and closed the door.

Elphaba looked down at the plain coarse fabric with its wide stitching and its uninspired lines, and exhaled. She was never one to care about her royal birth, but a lady's maid for the Gillikin royal family? How far her grandfather would say she had fallen. Her mind wandered back to her siblings. Her brother, Shell, could find no better post than a groundskeeper, tending the royal rose gardens. They had hid Nessarose in the abandoned cottage in the woods. Elphaba hoped her sister would be fine taking care of herself until she returned every fortnight. If someone poked around their house and noticed Nessa's ailment...Elphaba shuddered. She hated to imagine what the Gillikinese would do to her sister if they found her.

Knock! Knock!

"Are you almost done?" Nanny asked through the door.

Elphaba tossed the new garments down on a nearby dresser as her fingers flew to the buttons of her black lacy Munchkinland dress which had black opals sewn throughout. "Just a few moments longer!" Elphaba said, then shimmied the dress off her shoulders and announced, "I do have a question."

"Ask me anything, Your Eminence," Nanny said.

"Why was an _ugly_ lady's maid requested for Princess Galinda?" Elphaba asked, stepping out of the dress.

"They didn't tell you anything about the Princess, I suppose."

"Only that she would have a hard time getting used to me," Elphaba said. She folded the thick black funeral gown and pressed her lips to it before laying it atop the dresser.

"Of course, I don't like to gossip, but it's rumored that the Princess' last lady's maid, Miss Clutch, was indecent around Princess Galinda, arousing bodily passions in her that are unbecoming in a young woman. It was assumed that an ugly maid would be able to assuage the damage. I wish to say, Your Eminence, that while your condition cannot be described as beautiful, _I_ do not find Your Eminence ugly as some may."

Elphaba snorted to herself, but said, "Thank you, Nanny. That's very kind of you." The older woman's explanation only made the Munchkinlander more curious. What did she mean by passions? How was Elphaba's appearance suppose to help Galinda's temperament?

"Your Eminence should be warned that the Princess will try to test you, but Your Eminence mustn't show her any signs she's affected you. Her nature is one that takes a perverse pleasure in the vexation of others. If you don't react to her, she'll grow bored and leave you alone in time."

Elphaba rolled her eyes. Were all the Gillikinese so tiresome? She held the maid's dress out in front of her. It's brightness was offensive. She hadn't even finished mourning her father. She should be wearing black at least until the end of the winter. She swallowed and glared at the dress several moments longer, before she sighed in defeat, and slipped it on.

Once she tied the apron around her waist and stepped out of the closet, Nanny whisked her down long corridors where enormous oil paintings hung of naked women reclining on furniture and posing in bath houses. Elphaba's insides churned. Such lewd displays of swaying breasts, pert nipples and bushy nether parts would never be on display like this in Munchkinland. Ogling the paintings, Elphaba almost walked into Nanny who had stopped and was opening a thick oak door.

Elphaba entered the luxurious ballroom behind the older woman. As her eyes fell on the dancing Princess, her heart skipped two whole beats. Galinda looked taller than her actual height with her neck elegantly stretched, her curvaceous body erect and posed in the middle of a dance lesson. She was more beautiful than any of the women Elphaba had seen in Munchkinland. Galinda rested the back of her right hand against her left cheek while she placed her left hand behind her back, palm out, above her waist. A male instructor directed her to tilt her head while she spun in tight circles. Galinda's flowing hair pulled at Elphaba's insides. The luscious ringlets were the color of white wine and bounced behind her as she spun. Galinda's cheeks were smooth, a hint of cherry spreading across them as she glided across the room. Elphaba's gaze moved from Galinda's passionate sapphire eyes, to her full pink carnation lips, to her buxom figure in her sky blue gown. The Munchkinlander's heart jumped into her mouth. A tight contraption around the Princess' torso pushed up the Princess' full breasts and offered them to spectators. How could the Princess expose herself like this? Elphaba felt a quiver between her legs as her eyes followed Galinda's soft flesh while she twirled.

Noticing the new guests, Galinda stopped mid-spin and stared straight at the green woman. Elphaba trembled, her mouth dry, as Galinda's eyes fixated on her. Yes, Elphaba was certain she had never laid eyes on anything more beautiful—until Galinda spoke.

"My, my!" the Princess said, "When I heard my new lady's maid was less attractive than Miss Clutch, I never dreamt an ogre was to replace her!"

An unbearable heat rose up Elphaba's cheeks. She felt four again on her first outing with her mother. All the children and townspeople had hooted and pointed, cursed and whispered. Her skin was not just different like the Vinkus people, no, her skin was a mistake, a devilish hex, an ugly affliction. More than ever, she wished she wasn't cursed this way. But, as soon as the silent desire rose up within her, she squashed it. You are what you are! There's no use wishing you weren't!

Of course something this beautiful would find her disgusting. The more beautiful Galinda was the more abhorrent Elphaba must appear. It was to be expected. What did it matter? She didn't need the Princess to like her. She was doing this for Nessarose. She didn't give one hoot what Princess Galinda thought of her.

"Master Nikidik, we'll end my lesson here today," the Princess said.

"Yes, Your Royal Highness," the instructor said and picked up his coat that was hung over a sofa and made his exit.

But as Elphaba watched the Princess pick up her fan and walk toward her, with a curious gleam in her eyes and that sway in her hips, it did matter. Elphaba wanted this breathtaking woman to find her pleasing. Just once she wished her skin wasn't the first part of herself to greet people. Just once since her mother died she wished someone to find her winsome. Stop being ridiculous, Elphaba Thropp! No one as striking as the Princess would ever have reason to even smile at her. Elphaba's desire for the Princess' affection was more than unannounced and idiotic, it was painful. If only Elphaba had wanted nothing from her, then maybe she wouldn't have felt so ashamed when Princess Galinda took the end of her lady's fan and stuck her cheek with it.

Elphaba flinched and Princess Galinda startled.

"It feels!" Galinda said and Elphaba's chest flooded with heat. Her eyes scanned the horizon for something safe to fall on and landed on the fireplace dust pan.

Galinda took the end of her fan and slowly scrapped it down Elphaba's cheek, leaving a white chafe mark down the Munchkinlander's face. The fan descended down Elphaba's neck, to the collar of her dress. When the fan didn't stop, Elphaba's heart sped up. The crisp folds traveled lower still, toward the small swell of her breasts. Elphaba was sure the fan would stop. But it didn't.

It slid between her breasts. Elphaba's nipples tightened. The thin butter cream fabric was the only thing separating Elphaba from the Princess's instrument. She had never been touched here, never been touched like this. She hardly had been touched at all. The Princess continued to move the fan until it was under Elphaba's breast. Elphaba shut her eyes tight. Then remembering Nanny's words, her eyes popped opened. Too late. Galinda was already grinning as she pushed the fan into Elphaba, the butter cream fabric pulling against Elphaba's erect nipple. The Princess circled Elphaba's sexual organ. Elphaba's cheeks were on fire.

"It blushes!" Galinda said and Elphaba silently cursed her traitorous body. "Yes, of course, Your Highness," Nanny said annoyed.

For all her good looks, the Princess was even more hateful than all the others. She circled the fan around Elphaba's other breast. How stupid Elphaba had been to have wanted the Princess to be kind to her. She didn't need the Princess' kindness. She didn't need anything or anyone.

Galinda hefted one of her small breasts atop the fan. The Munchkinlander turned an even darker shade of juniper. Elphaba had worked so hard to feel nothing. No matter how people treated her, she could stay empty, cool, unmoved. Not today. She had never been forced to feel like this. Never been humiliated like this. She felt and felt and felt. Until she wanted to vomit.

Galinda let the Munchkinlander's breast sit there for a moment before she asked,

"Does it speak?"

"It does. It even has a name!" Elphaba snapped, choosing fury over tears.

Galinda smirked and withdrew her fan. "Do tell creature, what shall we call you?"

"Elphaba," the Munchkinlander said.

"Elphaba Thropp third Descending, Your Royal Highness," Nanny added.

"Descending from what? A Magyr pod?" Galinda asked.

"The Thropp family line. Elphaba was royalty back in Munchkinland," Nanny said, her chest puffing.

Galinda shrieked with laughter and Elphaba's hands clenched.

"Royalty? Is it any wonder why Munchkinland fell to Gillikin. If this foul creature was royalty, I can only imagine how backwards the rest of the country was," Galinda said.

Elphaba's nostrils flared as she imagined slapping the dust pan against Galinda's pretty little head.

Nanny, used to Galinda's derision, asked,

"Will you be needing anything more, Your Royal Highness, or can I take Elphaba downstairs and show her to her room?"

"Gloves," Galinda said and walked toward a sofa.

"Gloves?" Nanny asked.

"Yes, for that thing," Galinda said and Elphaba raised an eyebrow, "I won't have it touching me with its bare hands when it bathes and dresses me."

A sudden chill hit Elphaba. Bathe and dress the Princess? Her? Elphaba reached out for Nanny as her knees buckled.


	2. Chapter 2

Galinda excused herself from supper early. She missed Miss Clutch too much to eat. Her father had dismissed her lady's maid last Tuesday morning and Miss Clutch was gone by that afternoon. She didn't even say goodbye to Galinda. The Princess' mind shifted to the detestable things the servants whispered about Miss Clutch. How Galinda despised them. Their sturdy bodies, their rude speech, their utter lack of decorum. Just the other morning, that pigheaded Nanny had called Miss Clutch a pervert. They didn't understand Miss Clutch at all. She wasn't depraved. She had never done anything untoward to Galinda. She had never done anything but read to her.

Galinda couldn't read, no Gillikinese woman could, except for Miss Clutch. They weren't allowed. It was said that reading corrupted the female faculties. If reading corrupted, Galinda decided she would happily become a debauchee, for Miss Clutch could spin worlds with the words that she read from those story books. The verses poured from her mouth like honey.

No, it wasn't her lady's maid who had been distasteful, rather it had been her father. She couldn't get the image of him and Miss Clutch out of her head. In the library where _her_ Miss Clutch had read to her, by _their_ fireplace, her father had strewn her lady's maid over the sofa, pulled her dress over her waist, revealing her bare bottom, loosened his pants and-Galinda cringed. How long had her father been doing those things to Miss Clutch? How she loathed him!

To make it worse he had blamed Galinda. None of the servants knew about his conduct when he dismissed her old lady's maid, instead he told them Miss Clutch had attempted to engage Galinda in unseemly activities. If that was to be the official story, then Galinda would play the part. Especially for that disgusting Elphaba. How could her father be as heartless as to replace her beautiful Miss Clutch with that grasshopper?! It was unforgivable! But, thankfully not permanent. Galinda would see to it that that ugly vegetable resigned before summer.

As the Princess came upon her room, she heard the voice of Nanny and her new lady's maid from the slightly open doorway.

"You'll be fine," Nanny said. "The Princess will come up after supper in another hour. Gillikinese fashion is different than Munchkinland's, but it's not too difficult. While the Princess is dining, you will turn down her bed, lay out a fresh chemise for her and clean her hairbrush. When she comes up, you will first remove her jewelry, then her gloves, her gown, her kirtle, her petticoat, and lastly her corset, a tight-fitting Gillikinese stay. After you've finished, ask if she needs anything more. If she doesn't, you're free to retire for the evening, until 7 o' clock the following morrow. She'll want a bath in about a few days."

Elphaba snorted.

"Pardon?" Nanny asked.

"I'm grateful for your help, Nanny. It's just for all the sophistication that the Gillikinese boast of, I find it absurd that their women are too lazy to even bathe and dress themselves," Elphaba said.

Nanny chuckled and Galinda's chest sizzled. How dare that hatchet-faced green bean call her lazy! How dare she refer to her at all!

Galinda threw open the door and glared at a shocked Nanny who gasped before bowing her head and an Elphaba whose cheeks darkened as she tucked her chin.

"Your Royal Highness-" the older servant started.

"Nanny, leave us," Galinda ordered.

"I was just showing Miss Thropp how to-"

"Say another word and you'll have to find another household to flap your gums at!"

The old woman shut her mouth, nodded, and maneuvered past the Princess who stood motionless in the doorway.

"What did you call me?" Galinda hissed, walking up to the stiff Munchkinlander. " _Lazy,_ am I?"

"My apologies, Your Royal Highness, I spoke out of turn," Elphaba said, her eyes fettered to her feet.

"You disgusting fungus! If you ever say such slanderous things against me or any Gillikinese noblewoman, I'll have your tongue pierced and your mouth bridled for a month! Do you understand me?!" Galinda asked, grabbing Elphaba's apron and wrenching. The Munchkinlander's lurched forward, her body pursing at the sudden contact.

"Yes, Your Royal Highness," she croaked with Galinda's lips so close, the princess' breath slipped into her mouth.

"Good," Galinda said. "Now what do you think would be a fair punishment for your offense?"

Still looking down, the Munchkinlander only swallowed.

"Nothing to say?" the Princess asked. Elphaba kept quiet. "How about forgoing two weeks wages?"

Elphaba's head shot up.

"Please, Your Royal Highness, anything, but that!"

Galinda's eyebrow raised. So the green bean needed the money. What would she have to spend it on? As soon as the question entered Galinda's mind it left. Galinda had said the first idea that came to her, but she would have much rather preferred to see Elphaba physically suffer, letting her serve as an outward reminder of the general inferiority of the Munchkinland people.

"Fine, you shall go without meals for a week," Galinda said.

Elphaba's mouth dropped.

"Shall we make it two weeks?" Galinda asked. Elphaba shook her head, her shoulders straightening, her mouth closing.

"Well, what do we say, now?" the Princess asked.

Elphaba's frame tautened.

"Aren't you going to thank me for being so lenient on you."

Elphaba's jaw clenched. Galinda smiled with a twinkle in her eyes.

"Thank you, Your Royal Highness," Elphaba said.

Galinda grinned and said,

"Very well then. I suppose you're ready to undress me now. You may start with my necklace." The Princess wore a white gold chain on which hung a rose-cut ruby, the size of a woman's fist that came to the top of her breasts.

"Yes, Your Royal Highness," Elphaba said and circled behind the Princess. With shaking hands, covered in grey scratchy wool gloves, the Munchkinlander reached out for Galinda's necklace. The bulky fabric made it impossible for Elphaba to hold onto the necklace for long. The gold chain kept slipping between her fingers right when she was about to unhinge it. Galinda sighed.

"So in addition to being hideous, am I to find you clumsy as well?" Galinda asked.

"Only when my hands are hairier than a sheep, Your Royal Highness" Elphaba said, trying again to work the latch.

"Complaints won't make your shortcomings any more bearable. Not to mention, you are the cause of your own misery. We wouldn't need to glove you, if you weren't so ugly!" _Ow_! Had that clumsy Munchkinlander jerked her necklace just now on purpose? "Be careful, you clod!" Galinda added.

"Yes, _Your-Royal-Highness_ ," Elphaba said in measured syllables.

Galinda rolled her eyes and waited as Elphaba fumbled some more. When Miss Clutch had undressed her, Galinda's room would be flooded with the smell of Miss Clutch's lavender and cinnamon perfume. The green magyr monster smelt like pogostemon cablin oil. Her movements and sounds lacked any sort of feminine grace. Her Munchkinland accent, with its heavy velarized 'l' and crisp 'k' sounds gave the Princess a sharp pain between her eyes. Galinda shut her eyes and imagined Miss Clutch. How her heart had sped up at Miss Clutch's gentle smiles and tender whispers, her warm silky fingers at her neck, pressing up her stomach, tracing her arms.

"Oouuu!" Galinda gasped as her heavy ruby necklace fell from her neck between her breasts. She spun around with one hand coming up to bosom. Elphaba's eyes were large, her shoulders squinching.

"Forgive me, Your Royal Highness!"

"You did that on purpose, didn't you?" Galinda shouted.

"No! It slipped from my hands, I didn't—"

SLAP!

"Next time your hand slips, remember mine will too!" the Princess said.

Elphaba's hand rose to her stinging cheek, where a blueish-green blotch was forming, her eyes wide and damp. Galinda pulled the necklace out of her garment. Elphaba stood still, her jaw rigid.

"Well, hurry now, you clumsy vegetable! I'd like to go to bed before midnight."

The Munchkinlander exhaled slowly. She took the necklace from the Princess and set it down before removing Galinda's gloves and hair jewels. As Galinda shook out her locks, the aroma from the flowers she used to fragrance them filled the air. Elphaba breathed in the scents. At the sound of her breath, Galinda turned her neck but the Munchkinlander had already turned away and was walking toward Galinda's vanity to set down her hair ornaments.

When Elphaba turned around, straightened herself, smoothed her apron, and inhaled deeply, Galinda remembered how her lady's maid's stared at her in the ballroom. Galinda knew that look. She had seen it on men many times. She was so used to it, she hadn't given it a second thought, but looking at the anxious Munchkinlander and realizing that only her garments were left for removing, she smiled. If that creature had _those_ feelings for her, perhaps she could use them against her.

Elphaba, now only a few inches in front of her, reached forward with trembling hands to undo the first button at the top of Galinda's bust. The Princess arched her chest forward and watched her lady's maid inhale sharply.

"What are you waiting for?" Galinda asked smirking.

Elphaba straightened and grasped the button in her woolly fingers. The prickly fibers from the gloves tickled the top of Galinda's exposed breasts. Galinda's stomach dropped at the sensation. She fidgeted her shoulders to get rid of it but instead she pulled the button from Elphaba's fingers. The Munchkinlander reached for the button again, but still couldn't loose it before it slipped from her hands - again and again. Galinda rolled her eyes, trying to push away the mounting tingles. Elphaba swallowed before she grabbed the button a sixth time, but to no avail.

"Don't you know how to unbutton a gown?" Galinda asked, smacking Elphaba's hands away. "Will you make me show you, you clumsy fool?" Galinda asked and grabbed the front of Elphaba's dress, pulling the lanky woman toward her in a stumble before she unbuttoned Elphaba's first button.

"Your Royal Highness!" Elphaba peeped.

"This is how it's done," Galinda said and unbuttoned another one, exposing Elphaba's smooth collar bone and the top of her chest. A plain of green. Detestable and yet intriguing. Galinda's hands moved to the next button.

"Please!" Elphaba shrilled.

Galinda dropped her hands and said,

"Undress me properly or I'll continue my lesson."

Elphaba nodded as she struggled to re-button herself with her gloved fingers.

"What are you doing?!" the Princess asked.

"Closing my dress, Your Royal Highness," Elphaba answered, looking up.

"That wasn't what I ordered," Galinda said, glaring at her.

Elphaba's eyebrows rose.

"Leave it open. You can close it after you've finished undressing me," Galinda said.

Elphaba's cheeks darkened, her eyebrows furrowing, her hands frozen on her own dress. Galinda could see the Munchkinlander was struggling to decide how far she would would let Galinda torment her. The Princess smiled, begging her lady's maid to try her. That stupid vegetable had no idea how much she could make her suffer. Elphaba clenched her eyes shut. Galinda stared freely at her bare green chest. Seconds passed and finally the Munchkinlander swallowed. Opening her eyes, Elphaba released her dress, her stiff hands descending to her sides as she left herself exposed. Galinda grinned. What a heady thrill it was to bend that creature to her whims!

With her dress undone, Elphaba demonstrated a renewed determination, using the tips of her nails through the gloves to peel off Galinda's outer gown and kirtle. She worked in silence never meeting Galinda's eyes that traveled up and down her body. She unhooked Galinda's petticoat from her corset and it fell to the floor. She kneeled to pick it up.

The Princess pressed her hands down on the Munchkinlander's shoulders to balance herself as she stepped out of the garment. Galinda squeezed and Elphaba released a small gasp. Galinda closed her eyes and bit her lip. She kept the Muchkinlander on her knees several moments longer than necessary, feeling her shoulders. Thin, boney, and yet muscular, nothing like Miss Clutch's soft supple flesh. When Galinda removed her hands, Elphaba turned around as she stood up, hiding her flushed cheeks as she went to hang the petticoat.

Galinda watched Elphaba face her. Despite having undressed Galinda for the past fifteen minutes, seeing the Princess across the room in nothing but a long chemise and a tight corset with her breasts running over, Elphaba's mouth dropped open. She shut it immediately but Galinda's heart was already fluttering at the sight of the blush rising up Elphaba's cheeks. The more Galinda could force that foul creature to feel things, the sooner it would leave! She would show those stupid servants. If they thought she was a libidinous slut, she would be all that and more to this vegetable. She would show her selfish father. If he sought to conceal his immoral acts by ruining Miss Clutch's good character with accusations of a nonsensical depraved condition, then Galinda would make an honest man out of him. She would demonstrate just how much she had been affected by Miss Clutch's depravity after all.

Elphaba's loosened her corset from behind and the thick leather slackened around Galinda's hot skin and chemise. With each breath, she felt the leather move up and down against her breasts. She waited for Elphaba to face her, but the Munchkinlander kept fiddling with the laces.

"Whatever are you doing now?!" Galinda asked annoyed.

"Undressing you as you asked, Your Royal Highness," Elphaba said.

Galinda sighed.

"You won't be able to remove my corset from back there!"

"What do you mean-"

"Gillikinese corset's hook in the front, you fool! You loosen the laces in the back and then undo them in the front!"

Elphaba swallowed.

"My apologies. I've never had to remove one of these before," Elphaba said as she walked around.

"Yes, I don't imagine anyone with your frame would ever need a boned corset," Galinda said, staring straight at the Munchkinlander's modest breasts and Elphaba's cheeks turned a deep basil. Galinda pushed out her chest and said, "Well hurry along."

Elphaba's shaky hands landed on Galinda's garment. She slid the tips of her woolly fingers in between the leather corset and Galinda's breasts to get a proper grip, brushing the top of the Princess' aureolas. Galinda bit her lip to quell a gasp. She watched as Elphaba concentrated, her chocolate pupils dilating, her wire thin nose nearing her skin, her warm breath stroking Galinda's breasts. The Munchkinlander pressed her thumbs against Galinda's leather, pulling Galinda even closer, her fingers pressing ever downward until she unwittingly connected with Galinda's hardened teat. The Princess involuntarily shuddered, an undesired reaction of both pleasure and revulsion at the touch of her hawk-faced lady's maid. Moisture seeped between Galinda's legs and she felt angry at herself. Somehow those feelings made her feel like she was betraying Miss Clutch. She felt even angrier at Elphaba. Galinda was supposed to be in control; she wasn't suppose to feel anything from this green monster, not anything that she didn't plan! Elphaba finally wrested the hook free and removed the corset and moved to the Princess' armoire.

Standing in only her see-through chemise, Galinda, cleared her throat, and said,

"I can't have you taking forever to get my clothes on and off. Practice with those gloves. For now, you will only undress me, send Nanny to me in the mornings. She will have to do your duties, plus her own, until you've improved."

"Yes, Your Royal Highness," Elphaba said. Turning to face the Princess, but keeping her eyes on the floor, she asked, "Will you be needing anything else?"

"No, you're dismissed for tonight," Galinda said and watched her lady's maid's spindly body cross the room, without any Gillikinese finesse, but with a grandeur all its own. Where ever did that thought come from? Galinda sighed as Elphaba closed the door behind her, relieved to have a moment alone to quiet her heartbeat.

The next morning, Nanny came as Galinda had instructed and dressed her in a red satin dress, her creamy white breasts brimming over the top. After, the Princess' morning was filled with devotions to the Unnamed God, a light breakfast, poetry recitation lessons, and ended with lunch with her favorite cousin Milla, a bare-faced but kind-hearted girl, with pale brown eyes and hay colored hair. Galinda had taken her under her wing, tutoring her in dance, poetry, and drawing while engaging in castle gossip.

"Shall we take a walk through the rose gardens?" Galinda asked Milla after their afternoon lessons.

"That sounds lovely."

The two young women chose to sit on a wide stone bench, amidst a circle of lofty red rose bushes, with winged monkey sculptures on both sides.

"Have you received any more letters from Sir Chuffrey?" Milla asked.

"None since he announced he would be returning to Paltos. Now that the war against Munckinland has ceased, he'll need to spend the winter settling his accounts before our wedding, but he'll come up here for a few weeks around Harvest Festival and Lurlinemas."

"Is he handsome, Galinda?"

"I saw him once at a palace ball a full seven years ago, twelve years of age at the time, I had to go to bed before any of the real festivities started. To be honest, it's hard to remember much about him, other than he smelled of sandalwood and myrrh. If the war hadn't gone on for four long years I would have already been married and a mother," Galinda said and, then changing her register, and pressing her shoulder against Milla's, added, "Instead I waste away in this castle, becoming as haggard as a spinster and my darling betrothed is sure to be all dried up by now."

Milla giggled and said, "Oh, Galinda, you're radiant as always. You don't look a day past 16 summers."

"Says my favorite cousin," Galinda chimed.

Milla smiled and asked,

"When will you have the wedding?"

"Father has yet to arrange it, but I imagine in May after the frost is over. And you, my dear cousin, any would be suitors?" Galinda asked and tickled Milla's side. Her cousin blushed and shook her head, a strange shy glimmer in her eyes.

"You're hiding something!" Galinda said.

"There's nobody, honestly, not a soul!" Milla said.

"Then what is it?"

"Well, there isn't anyone to speak of, but recently there's been a great migration of Munchkinlanders—" Milla started and Galinda suppressed a grimace. Did Milla have to mention the Munchkinlanders? It was such a pleasant morning without having to be reminded of her new lady's maid. "—quite charming. Do you think me strange?" What had her cousin said? Milla, strange?

"No, of course not, Milla. We each have our own way," Galinda chanced.

Milla leaned over and wrapped Galinda in a hug.

"Oh, I was so frightened you would think ill of me. I can't help but find Munchkinlander men so endearing, the shorter ones especially."

Munchkinlanders, endearing?! Galinda felt her stomach roll. Just then, a well built young peasant in a beige tunic that hung off his left shoulder revealing his muscular bronze chest, walked into their circle of roses, holding a billhook. Milla startled while Galinda raised her eyebrow at their guest. The peasant's dark black eyes widened with concern when he saw the women, and he bent down on one knee, and bowed his head.

"Pardon, your Royal Highnesses, I didn't mean to intrude. I was attending to the roses. If it pleases you, I shall continue," he said in a Munchkinland accent, waiting for Galinda's order. Galinda cringed at the sound of his voice, but looking over and finding her beloved cousin admiring the groundskeeper, she decided to keep the conversation pleasant.

"What's your name boy?"

"Shell, Shell Thropp, Your Royal Highness."

Galinda's eyes grew. "Any relation to Elphaba Thropp?" she asked.

The man glanced up, smiling, his eyes falling on Galinda's breasts before he swallowed hard, looked down and said, "She's my sister, Your Royal Highness."

Just how many of these Thropps has infiltrated the castle since the war?! Galinda forced a smile and said,

"Why you two look nothing alike." Galinda looked over at her cousin to see her cheeks flushed and eyes wide with desire and said, "I believe my cousin would agree with me that you're quite handsome."

"Galinda!" Milla said embarrassed, bowing her head.

Shell, still on his knee, grinned up at her and Galinda's lip spasmed. How did a servant have the courage to smile at her like that? There was an irritating cheekiness to this Munckinlander that reminded her of his vegetable sister. "Anyway," Galinda continued, "my cousin and I were just leaving for supper."

"May I stand, Your Royal Highness?"

"Yes, as you were. You may continue with your pruning here," Galinda said and rose, with Milla standing up beside her. Shell jumped to his feet and dashed to a nearby rose bush. The women watched curiously as he cut off two, before returning to bow in front of the women. He offered a rose to them in each hand and quoted a Munchkinland poem,

"Red is the rose that in the Great Gillikin Forest grows. Fair is the lilac that in the Glikkus mountain stacks. Clear is the water that in Ovvels sells for a penny, but, from Ev to Quox, my princess is fairer than any."

Galinda's cheeks flushed at the corny poem. She was both annoyed at the servant's presumptuous behavior, especially in front of Milla, and also somewhat flattered that this handsome young man found her still attractive despite Galinda being beyond the customary marriageable age in Gillikin.

"Stand and let me properly thank you," she said, handing her rose to Milla. Her cousin covered her mouth to suppress her nervous giggles.

Shell stood, straightening his shoulders, his neck long, his hands behind his back, his mouth donning a proud smile, his eyes looking outward but not directly at the Princess. Galinda wanted to remove that smug smirk from his face. She came closer to him and watched Shell's breath shorten. She rested a gloved hand on his chest, her warm lacy palm on his plump sweaty muscle. His eyes grew, his face red as he tried to maintain his gallant pose. Galinda drew even closer and watched his adam's apple bob as he swallowed. She tilted her hips into his and felt the protruding curve below the belt of his tunic, a curve that began to swell as she pressed their loins together.

Galinda's heart beat faster. Shell's thin tunic, stopping at his brawny thighs, was the only thing that separated her from his genitals. She could easily slip her hand underneath it at any moment and he would be forced to keep his stance. Peasants could never touch royalty but royalty could do whatever they wanted to their attendants. Galinda however had no real desire to do anything that vulgar to a man, no matter how she was trying to live up to the servant's rumors of her, rather she covertly dug her nails into his pec flesh, pumping a muffled groan from the young man as she bounced on her tip toes, pecked his cheek, and then quickly retreated to her cousin's side. She took her cousin's hand and the two women watched the burly Munchkinlander stand there meekly, his tunic tenting and his breath ragged.

"Let us go now, Milla," Galinda said, satisfied that she reestablished her position over the man. Her cousin nodded and the two women raced through the rose bushes.

"Galinda, did you see how he responded when you only gave him a chaste parting kiss?" Milla said.

"Munchkinlander men can't help themselves. Like dogs, their bodies act on instinct, not reason," Galinda said.

"Oh, Galinda, you're terrible!" Milla said and the two giggled all the way back to the castle.

Once inside, they were readied for supper and sat at a long table, dressed with hams, lamb, purple yams, sourdough bread, glasses of cider, and silver candelabras. When the guests were all seated, Galinda's father ordered Crope to bring in the evening entertainment. A tall slender attendant, in a grey servant's dress, a black pointed hat with an attached opaque veil, was escorted to stand at the head of the table across from the Princess, directly behind Milla. Galinda raised a bite of yam to her mouth when the mysterious female servant began to sing. Her notes, both silky and serrated, scoured the bottom of Galinda's stomach and lined Galinda's arms with goosebumps. The melody was a most pleasurable vexation. Galinda lowered her fork. She could only listen as she pressed her thighs together, the singer's syllables entering her one after another.

The Princess was unaware that her father had been watching his daughter become enraptured. He leaned over and whispered in her ear,

"I'm glad to see you appreciating your new lady's maid." Galinda's eyes twitched at the revelation and her father continued,"In time I know you will forget all about Miss Clutch. Soon you'll see how edifying Elphaba will be for you."

Galinda clutched her thigh under the table with bruising intensity and said with the sweetest smile,

"Yes, Father. In time, I'm sure I'll find more ways than one for her to please me."

* * *

 **Dear Readers: Thank you for all the reviews, follows and favorites for the previous chapter! In this chapter you see the castle from Galinda's perspective. I would love to hear your impressions and thoughts about this chapter and this AU in general - whether it interests you, despite Galinda starting out quite different than the book. Thanks for reading!  
**


	3. Chapter 3

**! Warning !**

This chapter includes a strong non-consensual sex scene. Please skip this chapter and read some other great gelphie story if this offends you. Happy Reading!

* * *

"The princess is the most beautiful woman in Oz —and she's kind-hearted as well!" Shell said, adjusting his brambly sack over his right shoulder while raising a torch with his other hand.

Elphaba wrinkled her nose.

"You can't be serious," she said. "She's heinous— _a vicious, self-absorbed, bigoted tyrant_."

Shell raised a bushy eyebrow at his sister.

"Jealousy doesn't suit you, Fabala. It won't make you more beautiful nor her any less," he said.

Elphaba choked on her spit. _Jealous_? Her brother didn't understand her at all. She elbowed past him, quickening her step. The two were far into the Great Gillikin Forest walking back to their sister.

"Come now," Shell said, catching up. "Your high morals were always your best feature, don't lose them to a bout of female envy."

"Your best feature was your masculine silence, please indulge in it now," she said.

"Will you remain a misanthrope even here? I bet you haven't one new friend in that castle."

Elphaba snorted. What was friendship other than another name for _mutual exploitation_? Elphaba was closest to Nanny, but it wasn't because of a shared affection, but rather because Nanny's deference to her defunct royal status made the woman civil to her. The other servants completely avoided her. When they did say her name, it was in a huddle of whispers, their conversation halting whenever Elphaba came near, and picking up again as soon as she left.

What use had she for "friends"? Elphaba crossed her arms as she continued to speed walk.

She never needed anyone outside her family. Munchkinland was provincial, its people insipid. She had learned that no matter the palace ball, she would be the most interesting person there. Gillikin was no different, with its vacuous Gillikinese royalty, and its empty-headed servants. Friendless as ever, her social life remained unchanged. But, unfortunately that was the only part of her life that had.

Her days of disappearing into a trove of books, spindling her gangly legs around her favorite gold and red embroidered sofa in the west library had vanished. No more archery by the stables, no more strolls by the foggy Munchkinland moors in the mornings, no more singing without being hid behind a veil. Before the war, outside of tending to Nessa, Elphaba had entertained herself as she pleased, but now she only had the wee hours of the morning to herself. Once her favorite time of day, they were now filled with dreams of her father calling to her from the gates of Colwen Grounds. She would wake in a feverish sweat only to toss and turn until she got up, worrying about her sister. How was Nessa surviving in the cottage? Did she have enough food? Could she manage in her chair by herself? Had that Munchkinlander, Boq, whom they met on their way, kept his promise and checked in on her?

She no longer ate what she wanted either. How she missed spiced vegetables, dried fruits, rice, and nutmeg milk. Except for the Butler and Head Housekeeper who received scraps from the royal table, the rest of the castle servants had a diet of thick sludgy porridge with leftover animal trimmings in it. Elphaba never knew how the servants could gobble it down, until she rounded her sixth day of Galinda's punishment; she progressed past ravenous to a general state of dizziness, with high punctuations of nausea.

But, even more important than what she was eating (or not eating), were the restrictions on what she could say or do. In her youth, palace guests criticized her appearance, even brazenly touched and stroked her skin. Hating their pompous comments and lecherous hands, she learned to defend herself. If someone insulted her, she met them with a cutting remark of her own. If she was with someone who overstepped their bounds, she exited the meeting or dance early and retired to her room. She controlled who she saw. How close they stood. What they talked about. How long they stayed. But in Gillikin, Elphaba had no control. She had to stand and bear everyone's brutishness in silence.

Like when the Princess measured her waist each night to make sure Elphaba hadn't eaten a nibble since her punishment. Galinda circled her body with a long red ribbon, synching it tight against her belly, at that intimate space between her navel and lower parts. The tips of Galinda's nails glided across the silky fabric, tracing her body, making her tickle in that space she wasn't supposed to feel.

"That's my good girl," Galinda would tell her afterward, reducing her to a small child while forcing her to feel every bit a woman.

"She likes me," Shell said, interrupting Elphaba's thoughts.

"Who?" Elphaba asked, rubbing her hands together for warmth, as a sudden gust rattled the surrounding pine trees, their frigid limbs whistling and warbling.

"Princess Galinda, of course," Shell said.

Elphaba snorted. Would his talk of her never cease? "How would you know how the Princess feels?"

"She's shown interest in me at the gardens. She asked my name and family line."

"Did you tell her we were related?" Elphaba asked, assuming he'd be too embarrassed.

"Of course. Why should I hide it? We're from noble blood," Shell said. Elphaba's gaze snapped back to him, waiting to hear Galinda's reply, but Shell was lost in thought, wearing a silly grin. "Well, what did she say?" Elphaba pressed.

He inhaled, before he looked at his sister, smiled, and said,

"She said I was by far the more handsome one."

Elphaba's stomach knotted. Why should she care? Why should she care Galinda called her ugly and a fool, and her brother attractive? She already knew her brother was charming, that women swooned over his his high cheekbones, aquiline nose, thick curly black hair, and olive skin. And even if she wasn't green, Shell would still be more fetching to someone like Galinda—a woman. What irritated her was that while Shell's appearance acted as an indicator, a guarantee, that other parts of him were equally lovely, provoking people to get closer to him, her greenness had the opposite property. Not only did it repel others, but it made them assume that she had nothing interesting beneath her skin; no goodness could ever be associated with her. Even when they received evidence to the contrary, like witnessing her handsome family or hearing her clever witticisms. Without a second thought, they severed her from those parts of herself. If her brother was handsome, she was an anomaly; they never acknowledged their shared brown eyes and strong jawline. Or when she voiced something bright, others took up her ideas while leaving her out of the conversation, their eyes passed over her, their voice rose over hers.

"She won't love you," Elphaba said, helping her brother avoid inevitable disappointment, her words had nothing to do with that wet bitter feeling clumping in her belly.

"How would you know? Jealous again? Are you jealous that I'm well liked in Gillikin, that the Princess prefers my company to—"

"It has nothing to do with jealousy!" Elphaba snapped, but this time the accusation clung, "I'm telling you this, so you don't make a fool of yourself over a woman who will never return your feelings. We're her servants, not her equals!"

"We weren't always servants! I can write, play, dance, fence and hunt as good as the next Gillikinese nobleman."

"It doesn't matter! To her all you are is a lowly Munchkinlander. She wouldn't dare sully herself by having an affair with you, let alone any sort of proper relation. You're beneath her!"

"She kissed me!" he said and crossed his arms.

"She what?" Elphaba asked, her eyes searching her brother for a hint of a lie, but finding only a cocksure smile. She was sure she understood who Galinda was, but was it possible that the Princess didn't have a prejudice against _all_ Munchkinlanders? Was it possible that she wasn't cruel to everyone? Did she save her meanness just for her? Was Elphaba really so ugly that she brought out the worst in people?

" _I said:_ she kissed me—a warm goodbye kiss!" he repeated.

"Are you sure you weren't confusing it with the customary Gillikinese farewell?"

"There is no Gillikinese custom where noblewomen kiss _their servants_!" he said, with a cluck.

Elphaba's heart pittered. He was right. Galinda never kissed her or Nanny, only her instructors and the royal family. Why would she kiss her brother unless...unless...could she really desire him? Her stomach rolled. Did Galinda have no propriety at all?! Did she just kiss strangers and touch—touch her lady's maids? Elphaba's mind flipped to Galinda's slips of hand, which had become more frequent, a graze of Elphaba's arm there, a touch of her side here. Elphaba wanted it to stop. She wanted Galinda to stop making her have those feelings. Feelings that might not feel so disturbing if Galinda didn't force them on her, if the Princess didn't revel in abusing her. Her mind went back to the ballroom, to the first time she laid eyes on Galinda. How would it have felt if the Princess had greeted her the way she did Shell? If she had called her beautiful? If she had given her a tender parting kiss? But Galinda hadn't. She had called her a monster and stroked her in that despicable way! Elphaba shuddered.

"Don't stew!" Shell said watching his silent sister shrink into herself like she often did, "We'll only be able to spend a few hours with Nessa, so it's best we enjoy our time. We'll have to leave well before sunrise to make it back before anyone notices we've been gone."

Elphaba inhaled to clear her thoughts, and nodded, her stomach growling. Shell snickered and asked,

"Didn't you have supper before we left?"

"Mm," she grunted, thankful that the outside servants and inside attendants ate separately. Galinda's punishment was far too humiliating to admit to her _handsome_ brother.

A little more than an hour later, the two reached the cabin. Its decaying wooden door shut, ivy devouring the outside, the windows dark and the edges caked with mud, a layer of sludge knee high up to the door, with moonlight illuminated the surrounding weeds.

"Do you think she's inside?" Shell asked, his breath a bundle of white clouds.

Elphaba didn't waste any time answering, she ran to the door, pulling the round handle. But the door stayed shut. She pounded hard.

"Nessa! Nessarose! Let us in!" Elphaba shouted.

"Nessa!" Shell called.

"Elphaba? Shell?" a faint voice bleated.

"It's us, Nessarose!" Elphaba said, relieved her sister still lived.

Slither! Slither! Click-Clack!

A rickety-rack moseyed to the door back. Phuh-Hee. Phuh-Hee. Nessa breathed through the door crack.

"Did you come alone?"

"Of course!" Shell said, "Now, open up! We're chilled to the bone out here!"

"We've brought food and gifts, Nessa!" Elphaba said.

Crickety-Clack-CLUNK! Slither-Back! Slither-Slither-Back.

"I've unlocked it," Nessa called out.

Elphaba grabbed the iron handle and tilted backward on the tips of her heels, until her body weight coaxed the decrepit door open. Pulling herself perpendicular again, she shook the mud off her shoes and ankles and entered the kitchen with Shell and his torchlight behind her. She cringed! Piles of dishes formed towers and low hanging tenements on the kitchen table, bits of food clinging calcified and molded. Rows of red mud, resembling a freshly plowed field, lay throughout the kitchen. Six-legged guests retreated to the upper corners of the room. A wooden wheel, with broken spokes, stood erect, in a mud clot beside the table. Behind it was the rest of Nessa's chair on its side .

"Nessa! Nessarose, where are you?!" Elphaba called out.

"Nessarose!" Shell shouted.

Slither-Slither-Clitter-Clatter!

Elphaba shrieked as a black mass, agile and sleek as a sea snake, coasted over the floor, its fish tail whipping wildly as it tumbled into a corner.

"Please don't look at me!" her sister said.

The sea snake was Nessa! In the corner of the room, Elphaba could see her sister's dress was torn and soiled, her nails snapped and jagged, her lips cracked and stained. Her sister's "tail" was actually her withered legs, waving behind her as she clawed and glided across the mud.

"My sweet Nessarose!" Elphaba cried, running and bending down by her sister.

"I didn't think you were coming back," Nessa whispered, her face tucked into her shoulder.

"Of course we would," Shell said, kneeling beside Elphaba.

"What happened, Nessa? Didn't Boq come to check in on you?" Elphaba asked.

"When the rains came after you left, I didn't want him to see me this way. The side of the mountain fell in the downpour and threw me into the cottage and broke my chair."

"How have you moved about without it?" Shell asked.

Nessa's coffee-colored eyes hardened as she said,

"Why, I learned to _swim_."

Elphaba looked at her sister's upper limbs. The appendages which had always seemed so dainty and frail had an eerie vigor, as if they swirled and twitched on their own accord.

"Have you any food left?" Elphaba asked.

"I've been eating mint leaves through the broken window upstairs," Nessa said and Elphaba felt her heart stop.

"Shell, fetch a pail of water from the well and then clean the kitchen," Elphaba instructed.

Thank Oz, her brother had come with her. Elphaba couldn't be around large quantities of water, which the kitchen desperately needed, it had a strange debilitating affect on her.

"I'll take care of Nessa and make us a light snack," she said.

Her brother nodded. After lighting several candles from his sack, he set up his torch outside while Elphaba took their sister upstairs. Shell shoveled the dirt out of the kitchen, washed the dishes, cleared the cobwebs while Elphaba tended to Nessa's wounds, boarded the upstairs window, and set up a small picnic by candlelight for the three of them in the upstairs master suite.

The two-bedroom cottage while abandoned, was left with dishes, water jugs, a few tools, one bed, carpets, moth-bitten sheets, and a large basin for bathing. Nearby grew plenty of raspberry bushes and pomegranate, lime, and lemon trees. The two older siblings had left Nessa with a sack of potatoes and promised to come back in a week and a half, when the month ended and they received their salaries. But their salaries didn't go far, they could only buy salt, oranges, cheese, three loaves of bread, candles, and blankets.

Elphaba peeled an orange and offered it to her siblings. Watching them eat, she couldn't help herself. She wolfed down a morsel and licked the juice from her fingers. Nessa looked up at her horrified.

"Just because we've been reduced to peasants, doesn't mean you have to eat like one!" Nessarose said.

"Nessy!" Shell said.

Embarrassed, Elphaba stilled, and put down the orange.

"Is my younger brother to tell me when I can and can't speak? Have you too forgotten all your manners from Munchkinland?" Nessa asked.

"Elphaba's worked hard to come and bring you these things," Shell argued, "You don't know what it's like to work for—"

"She's right! My apologies, Nessa, I won't lose myself again," Elphaba said, not wanting Nessa to know anything about her life in the castle, and mindful that Galinda would measure her and ask if she'd eaten when she returned, she didn't want her conscience working against her.

Shell and Nessa finished their meals and Elphaba put Nessa to bed while Shell cleaned up the dishes. Afterward, Elphaba and Shell sat down on a blanket next to the foot of the bed on the floor.

"She needs someone to care for her here," Shell said.

"I know, but neither of us can stay," Elphaba said, "Our two salaries together don't even provide her with what she needs now. Her medicine will run out soon and she'll need a new chair. Although I don't know who will make them here in Gillikin."

"She'll need at least a cow and chickens as well," Shell said.

"And, I promised her to take her to the Wizard's carnival this year," Elphaba said.

"The carnival?! One ticket alone costs a month's salary!" Shell scolded.

"She believes he can make her walk."

"He a swindler! You don't believe in his miracles, do you?"

"It doesn't matter what I believe. You know Nessa was closest to Father. Coming to Gillikin after his death was the hardest on her. The Gillikinese drown their lame at birth and isolate their maimed and diseased to keep away their bad luck. Nessa has to hide away from them in this horrible cottage and even here she's still not safe!" Elphaba said, her voice straining, "If someday someone were to find her—if they tried to take her away—if—"

"It's going to be okay!" Shell said and reached out and touched Elphaba's arm. "No Gillikinese is going to find her here, they think the forest is haunted. And, with all the Munchkinlanders migrating to Gillikin there's sure to be someone who will know how to make a chair for her."

Elphaba nodded.

"Everything will be all right. You'll see," Shell said and lay on his back next to her.

They stayed quiet for a while in the dark, until Shell asked,

"Won't you tell me about her?"

"Her?"

"The Princess," Shell said.

Not Galinda again. Elphaba rolled her eyes.

"What's it like being close to someone that beautiful everyday?" Shell asked.

Dreadful. That's what it was like. How could she describe her relationship with Galinda? Should she tell her brother how her chest burned when she first saw the Princess? Or should she tell him how the Princess humiliated, mocked, unbuttoned, and slapped her? Or should she say that in spite of Galinda's cruelty, the things Galinda did to her still made her tingle. Should she tell him that her body was no longer her own. Not her mouth, her hands, her waist, not even her feelings. She abhorred the way Galinda treated her. She didn't want Galinda touching her at all and yet her body reacted otherwise. Galinda's caresses made Elphaba sick to her stomach, but they also made her—her... She couldn't understand it, it was too humiliating to put into words. She couldn't tell her brother any of it.

"Mindless," she said. "In Munchkinland there was music and earnest debate, under the Princess are only frivolous tasks and empty placating."

"We can't go back. It'll be easier on you if you try to make the best of it here. I'd certainly give anything for the chance to undress the Princess every night," Shell said with a snicker and Elphaba rolled her eyes again, "Your nostalgia for Munchkinland, Fabala, while endearing has made you forget what it was really like— It was a land without music. Our musicians had no refinement. For high ballads and notated music, we sang Quadling lullabies to Gillikinese melodies. Munchkinland was an uncreative and stunted country that lost to Gillikin because we lacked the proper hardiness."

"You can't mean that! Don't you miss it at all?" Elphaba asked.

"What is there to miss?" Shell said.

"How about our Father?"

"He left us, Elphaba. If we didn't mean anything to him, why should he mean something to us?"

"So you're bitter that he got to die in Munchkinland while we're reduced to servants here?" Elphaba asked.

"If he hadn't started that war with Gillikin, he would still have his honor and we would still have our home."

"He only started a war because the Gillikinese cut off supply routes so that half of Munchkinland was starving," Elphaba said.

"Because he refused to trade with them! He was stubborn and a poor strategist."

"Should he have just offered Munchkinland to Gillikin to take whatever they wanted?"

"Of course not, his plan was much better! He sure kept the Gillikinese in their place with his war!" Shell said sarcastically and Elphaba sighed in the dark. After a moment Shell exhaled and said, "I know the terms of trade were unfair, Elphaba, but at least, we would have gotten something in return."

"Gillikin offered to trade us grains that Munchkinland already grew. We had no need for them and they weren't at all comparable to the emeralds and silks that Gillikin demanded in return."

"We would have been cheated, but we would've still had a country. Father never knew how to manage Munchkinland, he couldn't even properly train an army. If only you weren't the way you were then—"

"The way I am? You mean, _green_? If I wasn't green then Father would've happily turned the country over to me to rule as the oldest and the next Eminent Thropp? Is that what you want to say? That if somehow I wasn't discolored, I could have prevented all this?"

"Well, you were certainly smarter than him. I never believed your greenness was a curse because of your sinful heart like he did. I don't blame you for it, but if you weren't disfigured, at twenty, you would have been ruler of Munchkinland. And, if you had ruled, we wouldn't be here now."

His words burned. Mostly because Elphaba agreed with him. If only she hadn't been green, they would have given her a chance to rule. She might have prevented Munchkinland from entering an unwinnable war. Instead she became a lady's maid to a cruel mistress. She closed her eyes for what only seemed like a few candle marks before Shell was shaking her awake in the dark.

"Come on! We've got to get back to the castle!"

After a hurried goodbye to Nessa, promises to return again in two weeks, the two scurried back. They entered the royal stone gate, dashing through alleyways toward the castle as the sun rose over the hills. Once they reached it, Shell gave a parting wave to Elphaba and headed toward the garden sheds. Elphaba ran toward the servants' entrance, racing through the kitchen, up one flight of stairs, toward the attendants' quarters, to find Nanny pounding on her bedroom door.

"Where have you been?!" Nanny asked as Elphaba approached her.

"I took a walk," Elphaba said, hoping Nanny wouldn't ask where.

"Did you happen to roll in cow dung while you were out? Pardon for saying so, Your Eminence, but you smell atrocious. Not to mention, your dress is filthy!" Nanny said and Elphaba looked down at herself and saw smudges and patches of mud, twigs, and pine needles dotting her garment.

"I'll wash and clean my dress—"

"There's not enough time for all that!" Nanny cut in.

"But, the Princess, doesn't need me until the evening and I cleaned her room yesterday."

"Guests will be arriving this afternoon and for some reason she's decided you will dress her this morning!" Nanny said.

"But, I haven't practiced enough—" Elphaba said, her stomach swirling. Seeing Galinda once a day was hard enough. Now she would be flung into her presence without even the chance to catch her breath.

"She says you have, Your Eminence, and her opinion of you is the only one that matters," Nanny said, "Now, hurry. She's already been waiting for fifteen minutes!"

"I'll wash quickly!"

"There's no time for washing, Your Eminence! Follow me, we've barely enough time to get you a new dress," Nanny said, coasting down hallways toward the servants' closet. The old woman handed Elphaba another yellow dress, a pair of gloves, and popped outside to wait. Elphaba inhaled deeply. It would be fine. Everything would be fine. Nanny hadn't figured out she left the castle, and, surely, putting on Galinda's clothes would be easier than taking them off. Elphaba slipped on the new dress and gloves and dashed out of the closet, past Nanny, toward Galinda's room.

"Not that way, Your Eminence!" Nanny called.

Elphaba stopped and said,

"But you said—"

"Guests are coming this afternoon and the Princess always wants a bath when she receives a visit."

Elphaba blinked several times. Surely she had heard Nanny wrong.

"I've already poured the hot water," Nanny said, pulling a stunned Elphaba by her arm towards the baths, "She'll expect you to wash and fragrance her hair, offer her any cloths or soaps she requests, wrap her in a towel after she's finished and see to any other tasks she has for you, before you dress her. Do you understand?"

"But, I'm not good with water," Elphaba confessed.

"Yes, well I can't swim either, Your Eminence, but I doubt she'll ask you to join her in the tub," Nanny said.

"What? No, Nanny, what I meant was—" Elphaba stammered. How could she tell the old woman that water made her unstable, that it excited her, and in large doses could make her faint. There's no way Nanny would believe her unless she saw for herself and Elphaba wasn't about to give a demonstration. Before she could think how to explain her condition, Nanny opened a door and pushed her into a tiled room. The steam made Elphaba's face prickle.

To her left were lofty built-in stone shelves with towels of different sizes, below the shelves sat a long wooden table on which were jars of soaps, dried and fresh flowers, oils, and various powders made from ground roots. Farther down on the left were large buckets, a wooden chair, a cloth screen for modesty, along with several wooden stools.

In Munchkinland, people bathed by collecting and warming water in pails. Elphaba had assumed it was the same everywhere, until her eyes took in the large built-in tub before her. In the middle of the bathroom was a concavity, twelve feet wide, nine feet long and five feet deep, filled to four and half feet with hot steaming water. Built-in tile stairs with golden rails descended into the water all the way to the floor of the bath tub. Elphaba shivered at the sight. Who would want to be consumed by all that water? How thick it must feel!

Galinda floated in the tub with her back to the them, her hair pinned up, the water coming right below her bare shoulders.

"She's here, Your Royal Highness," Nanny said.

"Yes, I can smell it," Galinda said without turning around. "You may go now, Nanny."

"Yes, Your Royal Highness," Nanny said and left Elphaba by herself.

The Munchkinlander didn't budge. If she got wet, there was no telling how her body would react, she couldn't afford not to have her wits about her with Galinda.

The Princess turned. Water droplets sliding down her flushed face, her sea-blue eyes dilated, her full lips red and moist, the top of her cleavage rosy from the hot water. Elphaba lost her breath. Was the steamy mist already having an affect on her? Or was it the wet, naked Princess in front of her?

"You're full of surprises aren't you?" Galinda asked, her eyes boring into her. Elphaba raised an eyebrow, "I didn't think it possible, but you've found a way to smell even worse than usual. Before you come near me, I insist you freshen yourself with the leftover water in those buckets," Galinda said pinching her nose shut with one hand and pointing with the other. Elphaba didn't move.

"Did you hear me, vegetable?" Galinda said in a nasally voice.

"I can't," Elphaba said.

"Can't what?" Galinda asked swimming toward her. "You can't wash? Is that why you're green? Is that thick green grime of yours actually years of unremoved filth?"

"No! That's not what I meant! I—"

"Well, then douse yourself with that bucket already. Your odor is making me ill."

"But, I can't—"

"Creature, if you make me get out of this tub, you will regret it! Do you hear me?!" Galinda asked, her hand squeezing the stair rail.

"I'm allergic to water!" Elphaba blurted and Galinda's eyes narrowed.

"Do you take me for a fool?" the Princess asked.

"Of course not! I—"

"No one can be allergic to water. How would you clean yourself without it?"

"Oil, Your Royal Highness! I use oils to clean myself," Elphaba said.

"I don't believe you!"

"What reason have I to lie to you?" Elphaba asked.

"Who knows the reasonings and motivations behind a _monster_ like you?"

Elphaba stiffened.

"Fine," Galinda said, sneering, "Make me believe you!"

"What do you mean?" Elphaba asked.

"There are oils next to the soaps. Help yourself."

Elphaba's heart tik-tocked in her chest. Surely, Galinda didn't mean for her to—

"Show me how you clean yourself," Galinda said with a smug smile.

"You mean wash my hands with it?"

"Are your hands the only place you wash when you bathe, creature?"

Elphaba heart was firing in her ears. Galinda wouldn't do it. She wouldn't ask her to. Galinda was cruel, but not sadistic.

"Is it?" Galinda asked.

"Of course not, Your Royal Highness," Elphaba whispered.

"I didn't think so, vegetable. If you're really allergic to water, then demonstrate how to remove that stench without it. Show me how you bathe yourself!"

Elphaba's mouth went dry. This couldn't be happening. It couldn't. It just couldn't.

"Now!" Galinda shouted.

But it was happening. Elphaba floated out of her body for an instant. She watched herself walk toward the towels. She grabbed one, looked down at the oils, her hands shook as they fumbled with the jars, thoughts stuttering in her head: find an oil that won't burn, fine one that cleans, soak the towel, turn around. Coming back to herself, Elphaba gazed down at the Princess.

"Remove your clothes," Galinda said, at the edge of the tub next to Elphaba, inches away from her feet.

At least there was the screen. Elphaba could clean herself and then return to Galinda. She walked toward it when Galinda called out,

"Remove your clothes here! In front of me!"

Elphaba stopped, her back to Galinda. Her heart hammered. Her breath coming in wheezing spurts. No one but her mother, who died when Elphaba was five, had ever seen her naked. When they tried to strip her in Quadling Country, her father had rushed her away from the crowds **.** But, there was no one coming to save her now. The Munchkinlander squeezed the towel.

What if she left? She could walk out of the room. She didn't have to do this. She could run and hope the castle guards wouldn't catch her on her way out. But Nessarose. Her dirtied face flashed in front of Elphaba. Even if Elphaba did make it out of the castle alive, how would she take care of her sister if she quit? Who would employ a green woman in Gillikin? Especially without a recommendation. She could get through this. She could pretend to be somewhere else. It wasn't happening—it wasn't happening at all. All she had to do was imagine she was somewhere else.

"Turn around, creature!" Galinda ordered.

Hot tears pushed at the corners of Elphaba's eyes. She balled her hands into fists. She dug her nails into her palm. Hard. Harder. She wouldn't cry. The Princess might see her disrobed, but she wouldn't see her broken. She wouldn't give her the pleasure.

"I won't repeat myself!" Galinda shouted, her voice echoing off the walls.

Elphaba slowly turned, her eyes finding a verdigris tile on the other side of the room to focus on. She hung the oiled towel over one arm and removed her gloves, letting them fall to the floor. One hand came up to her neck, her fingers brushed the top button. _I'm not here. I'm alone. Back home in Munchkinland. There is no Gillikin. There is no Princess. I'm just undressing myself in my room._

"Look at me," Galinda commanded, pulling Elphaba from her fiction. Elphaba lowered her gaze until see was looking into Galinda's icy blue eyes.

Don't stare at me, Galinda. Don't look at me like that! But Elphaba's silent pleadings went unheeded. Galinda's eyes roamed her body as she licked her lips.

Elphaba unbuttoned herself slowly, her hands coming to her breasts, then her stomach, a thin line of green becoming visible down her center. No more buttons. All that was left was to slip the dress off, but she was completely bare underneath it.

Galinda was grinning, her lips slightly parting in eager anticipation. Elphaba never hated her more. She grabbed the towel, brought her hands up to her shoulders and then she did it. She tipped her dress off. Her eyes shut as the fabric whooshed to the floor. Galinda inhaled. Elphaba's nipples hardened at the thick wet air that swept across them. She covered her breasts with her arm, her thighs squinching together to hide the black triangle between her legs.

"Sit down on the chair," Galinda ordered.

Elphaba opened her eyes and made her way to the chair and took a seat. With her legs firmly together, she quickly raced the towel over her shoulders. She wouldn't look up, not even as she heard Galinda rise from the water and walk toward the towels. Elphaba's hands continued their course. She was almost done. She was scrubbing her ankles when the Princess walked in front of her, wrapped in a towel that came down to her upper thighs.

"I'm finished," Elphaba said, straightening in her seat.

"I'm afraid I missed it. Do it again slowly, my dirty little monster," Galinda said and Elphaba cringed at the degrading pet name. Fine. One more time. She could do it. This humiliation was almost over. With an arm still across her breasts, she rubbed her neck, her shoulders, swiped across her collarbone, moved to her arm, down her stomach.

"Stop!" Galinda said and Elphaba's hand stilled. "Put down your arm," Galinda commanded and Elphaba's heart jick-jacked in her chest. She lowered her arms and exposed her small breasts, her seaweed colored nipples painfully stiff. "They're tiny," Galinda said making Elphaba's body flush with heat. "You can't skip those, every woman needs to clean them."

Elphaba's ears went fiery hot. She was beyond humiliated as her hand slowly circled her breasts, making them shiny and wet with the oil.

"Don't forget the tips," Galinda said and Elphaba had no choice but to brush the towel over her hardened nipples, sending little shivers down her spouts. Her blush darkening.

"Pull on them," Galinda said in a throaty whisper.

"What?" Elphaba asked. "What shall I pull on?"

"Pull on your nipples," Galinda said. "I heard it helps tiny breasts grow."

Elphaba felt her throat narrow. Galinda wanted her to touch herself in that way? The Princess was disgusting, but now, so was she. Her fingers were forced to clasp her nipples. Under Galinda's watchful gaze, she tugged them and grunted, surprised at the tingle that shot through her teats. An image of her father's horrified face flashed before Elphaba's eyes and she felt a wave of nausea, as more juice oozed from her center.

"Keep pumping and open your legs," Galinda demanded.

"Why? Why are you doing this?" Elphaba whispered still stroking herself. "Please let me help you bathe. Please—"

"Not until you're fully clean," Galinda said, crossing her arms.

"But, I've already cleaned my—" Elphaba said.

"Open—your—legs!" Galinda demanded and Elphaba's chin dropped. Would Galinda never stop? What did she want from her? Slowly Elphaba's legs widened. Her thatch of crisp straight black hair fully visible. The wet air tickling it, making it leak.

She looked up just in time to see Galinda's wet hand descending. "NO!" Elphaba shouted, but before she could stop her, Galinda's wet hand covered over her womanhood. Elphaba shuddered at the never experienced contact, her hands shooting out by her sides.

"I didn't tell you to stop tugging on your breasts," Galinda said and sat down Elphaba's naked lap. Elphaba grunted at the warm, wet, weight of Galinda's naked thighs. The Princess' warm center was directly above her lap, her wrapped wet breasts inches from her, Galinda's lips edging closer to hers. Elphaba felt light-headed.

"Put your hands back where they were, and keep tugging, or leave this castle now and never come back!" Galinda whispered, while her searing hand cupped Elphaba's womanhood.

Elphaba gnashed her teeth.

"If you leave now, we'll just tell Nanny the work was too much for you. You can depart the castle this evening. This can all be over right now for you, if want it to," Galinda said.

Elphaba eyes flashed with fury. Her hands returned to her breasts. She held them in her palms, her forefinger and thumb latching onto her swollen nipples.

Galinda looked surprised, but quickly hid her feelings behind a smile, and said, "If you want to stay, then by all means pull harder."

Elphaba tweaked harder on her fleshy buds and pinpricks of heat flew through them, a long stream of moisture slipping out of her depths. It was only a matter of time before Galinda smelt and felt her wetness. Her maidenhead continued to twitch and fill with heat under Galinda's feverish wet palm.

"Faster," Galinda ordered.

Elphaba grunted as her hands jerked her nipples faster. Faster. She waited for Galinda to remove her hand from her mound and get off her, but, instead, Galinda's fingers threaded through her pubic hair. Elphaba's eyes bulged as she felt a wave of tiny tingles throughout her mound. Her coarse black strands moved this way and that. Elphaba's hands stopped at the troubling sensation.

"Keep pulling, my dirty little monster." Galinda said.

"They're sore," Elphaba confessed without thinking.

"What are you suggesting? That I kiss them better?" Galinda asked, irritated.

"I am suggesting no such thing!" Elphaba said, her nostrils flaring.

"Do you want to stop?" Galinda asked.

"Yes!" Elphaba hissed.

"Then ask for permission."

"Please can I stop, Your Royal Highness?" Elphaba asked.

"Can you stop what?" Galinda asked sweetly.

Elphaba glared up at her, her lips tight, her fingers pinching up and down.

"If you want to finish your little bath, ask me properly. Ask for permission to finish milking yourself?"

Elphaba's cheeks went pipping hot. That wasn't what she was doing. She wasn't. She wasn't— _milking—_ herself!

"Ask me properly or squeeze harder."

The Munchkinlander hissed through labored breaths,

"Please—can I—I stop...miking...myself, Your Royal Highness?"

"Hold your breasts up for me to check," Galinda said. Elphaba's face flushed while her fingers stopped and she hoisted her breasts in her hands, offering them to the Princess while looking away.

"Squeeze them tight, while I check the rest of you," Galinda said.

The rest of her? Elphaba wondered what else Galinda wanted to check when the Princess' fingers poked her wet nether leaves. NO! Not there! Galinda couldn't! No one had permission to touch her like that! Only she could touch herself there! Elphaba clenched her eyes shut.

"My dirty little monster is very very wet," Galinda said. "Tell me for whom are you this wet?"

Elphaba felt mortified. Her cheeks stinging, her eyes unable to open.

"Who's it for?" Galinda leaned in and whispered hotly in her ear.

Galinda could go to hell. She wouldn't say it! She'd never say it. Her body hadn't reacted this way because she liked it. And her body definitely hadn't reacted this way for _Galinda_!

"Tell me," the Princess whispered. "Tell me or shall we let the guests see you like this?"

Galinda would never! She'd be too embarrassed!

"If you don't want to tell me, shall we call for Nanny? Would she be able to help you obey orders?" Galinda asked.

Elphaba's lip trembled, her hands squeezing. Galinda wouldn't let the old woman see them like this, would she?

"Shall I call for her now?" Galinda asked again, and slid herself up from Elphaba ever so slightly. "For you!" the Munchkinlander blurted, her eyes snapping open, her cheeks a dark green.

"What's for me?"

Elphaba swallowed hard and looked down. Galinda's fingers moved. They slid up and down and drew tight circles over her soaked womanhood. Sharp tingles shot through it and Elphaba's body winced, her legs trembling at the sensation. Galinda took her other hand and raised Elpahba's chin, forcing her to look at her, as she said, "Tell me, you disgusting creature. Who are you this wet for?"

"I'm this wet for you, Your Royal Highness," Elphaba whispered, her chest caving.

"That's right," Galinda said.

She said it. She had to say it. It was the only way to get Galinda to stop. Now, the terror was over. Elphaba had surrendered. What else could Galinda want?

But Galinda's fingers delved deeper, deeper into her sleek wet folds, shocking the Munchkinlander. The green woman bucked straight in her chair, the feeling between her legs making her shudder. Her thoughts went to mush, her insides trembling, a moan left her mouth that she couldn't control.

"My my... my dirty little monster," Galinda said, "Do you honestly want me to stop?"

"Yes," Elpahba hissed, her body quivering. But, Galinda only sped up, stroking her faster, with more force. Elphaba heard herself screaming at the lightening between her legs.

"Pity. I don't feel like stopping," Galinda said, her honey coated fingers rubbing back and forth against Elphaba's swollen clit.

She didn't want this. She hated Galinda! She didn't want the Princess' hand there. She didn't want Galinda to watch her while she was writhing out of control. She wanted it all to stop. _Stop! Stop this! Please, Galinda, don't! DON'T!_ Elphaba shouted in her head, but as Galinda's hand was fondling her, Elphaba's own hips betrayed her. They lurched forward and pushed her womanhood against Galinda's hand. Her heart clenched in horror. How could she?! How could she want this?! She didn't, she didn't, she didn't. She couldn't. But in that moment, as she was humping furiously, shrieking and gasping, she needed Galinda's hand more than anything. She was exactly how Galinda wanted her—a dirty little monster.

* * *

 **A/N: So the story has gotten darker...and** ** **it looks like it's going to get even darker before it gets bright.** I look forward to hearing your comments. Thanks for all the reviews, follows, and favorites so far! I have loved hearing from you! **

**Happy Holidays!**

 **xoxo,**

 **Lola**


	4. Chapter 4

**Dear Most Wonderful Readers,**

My apologies! Holiday travels and catching up with work delayed this chapter. Your comments, feelings, and questions were such a pleasure to receive in the meantime! While the last chapter seemed to produce a various array of emotions across readers, the consistent refrain was to keep going, so here goes!

As to whether Galinda and Elphaba will get through this and/or if Galinda will change, I definitely see the two women entering into a romantic relationship. Not to worry! However, it is going to be quite a slow road for the two women to move past passionate hatred to anything in the vicinity of love. For those of you who like the whole spectrum of romance, from dark to vanilla, I hope you enjoy their journey!

 **Caution/Warning/Stop/**

*A Note On This Dark Gelphie*

This story is going to get darker and stay dark for a while.

If dark gelphie is not your preference, that's okay. But, for those readers who already find this dark Galinda impossible to stomach or don't enjoy dark sexual themes, including non-consent, it's probably best to curl up with a lighter gelphie story. You're in good company on this site, as there are so many good gelphie stories to choose from! I'll miss all of you who need to cut out here, but I hope to hear from you again soon!

I will post some lighter gelphie shorts in the near future for those who wanted some more.

For those who don't mind being challenged by dark romances as long as there is eventually romance and not just sex, please know romance is indeed coming...it's just going to take a while.

I will continue to post warnings so readers will have a heads up on what chapters they may want to avoid.

* **This chapter contains a very strong scene of non-consent and violence.***

I know this is a wordy caution. I just want to make sure everyone knows what they are reading, so they can read according to their preferences and comfort levels.

Happy Reading!

Cheers,

Lola

* * *

Whatever came over her? Galinda wondered as she walked to her room, towel-drying her hair, dressed in a draping white robe. She had only meant to punish that ugly vegetable for her ridiculous lie, to humiliate her a bit, perhaps hasten her inevitable resignation, and if she was being honest, get back at her for being such a blatant reminder of what she'd lost with Miss Clutch. When had disgust become something more? When had watching turned to touching? When did she start to feel that something? That rush, that flame, that tickering in her chest. If she hadn't known better, she would have called it desire.

 _Desire_?

A Gillikinese Princess desire a Munchkinland servant? A fetid one at that?! It was beyond preposterous. It was...it was...dishonorable! And, it only made Galinda want to punish Elphaba more. Shivering, she opened her bedroom door and collided with memories of Miss Clutch. Clutch had been a voluptuous brunette just over thirty, who glided about the castle with a smile that could melt the coldest winter frost. Galinda cherished every moment they were close. Every time Miss Clutch read to her from the red book. Every secret they shared. Every dream she had of the woman, dreams where Miss Clutch ventured well past friendly to physically intimate. In Galinda's waking life, Miss Clutch was nothing but proper and prim, but the Miss Clutch of Galinda's dreams was ever more— _tender—_ to her.

As Galinda reminisced in front of her bedroom mirror, Nanny entered to dress her. The old woman expelled tight huffs and puffs as she bustled.

"Are you quite well, Nanny?" Galinda asked, cueing the woman to restrain her outbursts as she longed to return to her memories in quiet.

Nanny ignored Galinda's signal.

"Well, since Your Royal Highness asked, Your Royal Highness is too hard on her," the old woman said, lacing Galinda in her corset.

" _Her_? Are you referring to that abomination of a lady's maid?" Galinda asked and Nanny pulled the laces tight.

"Yes, Your Royal Highness. I don't know what happened, but she was horribly pale when she came out of the bath, sweating profusely, and she could barely say a coherent word. Your Royal Highness should know she's trying earnestly to please you. I know Miss Thropp is not Miss Clutch, but—"

"Don't you dare speak her name!" Galinda shouted and spun around, glaring at the old woman. Nanny's eyes widened and her palms rose in submission. Galinda trembled with anger. The pain from Miss Clutch's departure was too fresh. When Nanny put Miss Clutch's name alongside Elphaba's, it felt like the old woman, who never liked Miss Clutch anyway, was pissing on the memory of her.

"My apologies, Your Royal Highness. I meant no offense. I just wished to beg another chance for Elphaba," Nanny said.

"I've given her several chances!" Galinda said and turned back around. "I even gave her the chance to dress me this morning but she was too flustered after my bath to be of any use at all. I don't understand how you can bear to speak up for her; it's _you_ who keeps suffering from her incompetence, having to finish her duties as well as your own!"

"She isn't used to this kind of work, Your Royal Highness. But, she is doing her best," Nanny said.

"For some Ozians one's best is far from adequate. If Munchkinland had purged themselves of their deformed like Gillikin, none of us would have to suffer with her at all. She's simply unfit. I don't know why she doesn't resign."

"Most likely because there are no other posts. As Your Royal Highness knows, when the Gillikinese armies invaded Munchkinland, they beheaded many and they also scorched Munchkinland crops and scattered hemlock seeds and other poisons throughout the soils, causing a great many Munchkinlanders to migrate—"

"Does this tired tale have a point?" Galinda interrupted, as Nanny fastened her petticoat.

"I just mean to say, Your Royal Highness, since so much land was made untenable, most Munchkinlanders fled to Gillikin for food, but of course there aren't enough positions here to employ them all. So—"

Galinda sighed.

" _So_ —the castle is to become a charity house? Letting any wretched beggar in? Is that what you would have?" Galinda asked, gazing at the ceiling and weaving her hands through her thick locks as the old woman buttoned up her sky blue dress. "I will remind you, Nanny, that Munchkinland could have prevented this war. A war that you seem to forget produced many Gillikinese casualties as well. Had Munchkinland entered into a contract with Gillikin, both countries would have been spared all these inconveniences. But, Munchkinland refused, to its own peril. Runcible Castle should not be forced to suffer the consequences of Munchkinland's misplaced pride, nor should the Princess of Runcible Castle be forced to suffer from miserable service. You best pray that that ugly abomination improves or she won't last here much longer!"

"Yes, Your Royal Highness," Nanny said, exhaling, and finishing her duties in silence.

The top of the morning passed like any other for Galinda. Following afternoon tea, she and her cousin retired to her room to gossip until they received a summons to enter the Red Gallery where King Upland was receiving their guest— Prince Fiyero Tiggular from the Vinkus.

"Oh, Galinda, perhaps you should go by yourself. I wouldn't know what to say or how to act around a Prince," Milla said. Galinda's cousin who spent most of her life in the countryside had never been introduced to foreign royalty.

Galinda grabbed her cousin's hand.

"Oh, my darling. You are perfect the way you. But, I have just the thing to calm your heart," Galinda said and walked to her vanity table and pulled out a diamond necklace. "It was my mother's. She gave it to me for good luck and I want you to have it."

"Galinda, I couldn't!" Milla said.

"Oh, but you can and you will," Galinda said, walking behind Milla and fastening the necklace onto her bashfully smiling cousin.

Galinda pulled Milla off the bed and in front of her vanity mirror. Milla's eyes swelled as she took in her appearance.

"It more than suits you! You look absolutely radiant!" Galinda said.

Milla, whose twin sister had died a few years ago, was not accustomed to receiving compliments from her family, let alone expensive jewelry. Her parents had favored her sister Lilla who had been confident, poised, and quick-witted. Milla was the opposite: shy, clumsy, and prone to long spells of daydreaming. When her parents had sent her away to Runcible Castle, they had told her it was for her own good, but Milla knew the other reason; she was an ever-present reminder that their _other_ daughter— _their favorite daughter_ —had drowned. Lilla had been Milla's favorite person too. After she died, Milla never expected happiness to visit her again. But, since coming to Runcible Castle and spending her days with Galinda, who coddled and cosseted her, Milla found in the farthest corners of her heart a joy for life returning.

"I look like a princess!" she said and Galinda grinned, giving her a tender kiss on the cheek. The Princess, aware of Milla's situation, was grateful that she could carry out the duties of an older sister. Time with Milla made Galinda feel valuable, as if she had something to impart on the world, rather than being just a pretty object. "Don't worry, this supper will be like all the rest, I promise," Galinda said, smoothing out her cousin's hair "I won't leave your side for a second."

Milla nodded and kissed Galinda's cheek. The two made their way to the gallery and Galinda asked,

"Are you ready?"

"As ready as I can be," Milla said, fingering the diamond necklace.

"Here we go!" Galinda said while a servant pushed open the gallery door.

When Galinda caught sight of the Prince, her breath stopped. She had never met a Winkie before. She had heard of their unique appearance but never had she imagined the Prince's skin would be as beautiful as a robin's egg, with long slivers of peacock blues and diamond slices flecked throughout, his voice deep as a gamba and as melodious as a spring brooklet. She overheard the Prince talk to her father and castle officials of his travels, sounding self-possessed and accomplished, while also exhibiting an interest in the questions and opinions of his listeners. She needed his attention and she would have it! She decided this handsome and cultured Winkie should admire her, court and chase her; and eventually when she refused him, confessing her prior betrothal to Sir Chuffrey, this exotic Winkie would mourn her with big beautiful impressive tears.

Without releasing Milla's hand, Galinda crossed the gallery and approached the men.

"I'm glad you could make it to Mount Runcible, Prince Tiggular," Galinda said, announcing herself, and extending a hand. The Prince in the middle of a boisterous laugh, turned from the royal officials. As his eyes fell on Galinda, he stilled, all interest in his prior conversation evaporating.

"Ah! Meet my daughter, Princess Galinda," King Upland said behind the couple, "and her cousin, Lady Milla."

Fiyero took Galinda's hand and lowered his warm lips and kissed her, his glowing brown eyes never leaving Galinda's. The Princess' heart shimmied. What a dashing young Winkie indeed!

"A pleasure to meet you, Princess Galinda," the Prince said and Galinda shivered at the way her named glided off his forked tongue. Fiyero turned to her cousin and repeated the gesture, but with a haste that revealed his desire to return to Galinda.

While the conversation around the Prince and Princess continued, Galinda smiled at the Prince and he sent her winks and simmering glances. They fell into their own silent sensuous conversation. During a long gaze from Fiyero, Galinda felt her temperature rise and imagined the Prince leading her by the fire, ripping off her dress, his fingers unlacing her corset, as he lowered her to the carpets, his weight pressing into her, and his rough face sanding her cheek.

Their amorous signals continued for hours until King Upland led them to the dining table in the north banquet room. He sat at the head, with a leading Gillikinese officer on his right side and Prince Fiyero on his left, who was accompanied by his own advisor. Galinda sat down on the right, between the Gillikinese officer and Milla. A full feast was laid out for the Prince's arrival: lamb, pork belly, duck, poached pears, red potatoes, cider and mead.

Fiyero breathed deep, smelling all the delicacies, but with his eyes fixed on Galinda, it was clear what he really wanted to eat.

"How do you do it, Galinda? Princes fall for you with a bat of an eyelash," Milla whispered in the Princess' ear. The Princess smiled and whispered back,

"Men love to see themselves reflected in the eyes of a woman, especially when you reflect only their perfections."

"But, I've admired the Prince for hours and he hasn't once glanced at me," Milla said.

"Oh, Milla, my darling, you must have a pinch of restraint. Interest is flattering, but adoration's a millstone. I'm merely practiced in the art of attention. In time you'll be turning the heads of any foreign dignitary you choose."

"Do you think I might?" Milla asked.

"Of course! You are the most kind-hearted Ozian I've ever met. Any man will be lucky to win your hand in marriage," Galinda said and nuzzled her head into Milla's.

When Galinda gazed across the table, Fiyero's eyes were piercing in intensity, his mouth cracked with need. Galinda bowed her head, her face flushing. The Prince grinned sheepishly, stuffing a leg of lamb in his mouth while his cheeks darkened to a deep blue. Would her husband look at her like that? What would it be like for a man to make love to her? Galinda had never witnessed physical love between a man and woman, except for the incident with her father and Miss Clutch. She had overheard stories about it, when her mother was alive and her aunts came to visit. Galinda had even fantasized about it from time to time, but being with a man always seemed frightening. She didn't know how to entrust any man with that much power over her.

Midway through the meal, King Upland called for entertainment. Enjoying a morsel of bacon crumbles and potatoes, Galinda heard that beautiful voice sing behind her and stopped chewing. Goosebumps dotted her limbs as images of her hot naked Munchkinlander bubbled up in her mind. She blushed a deep pink, afraid her memories were written across her forehead, but when she looked up, Fiyero's gaze, for the first time since they met, was focused passionately elsewhere. On her veiled lady's maid.

How dare she?! How dare Elphaba wrest Fiyero's attention away from her! A searing discomfort spread through Galinda's chest. Why should that despicable creature receive any admiration at all, especially from the handsome Prince? Elphaba had intruded on her otherwise lovely evening. But as Elphaba continued to sing and Fiyero continued to stare, Galinda couldn't understand whom she was really upset with: Elphaba for distracting the Winkie Prince, or Fiyero for daring to look at _her_ lady's maid like that?

After Elphaba finished, Fiyero's interest returned to Galinda, but by that time, the glow of her excitement for the Prince had faded, a glow that could peter out for a man as quickly as it sparked. The Princess excused herself, promising the Prince to be around tomorrow for a tour of the gardens, and left with Milla to her cousin's room.

Shenshen, Milla's lady's maid, was waiting. The Princess reclined on her cousin's bed as Shenshen readied Milla for sleep. After discussions of Fiyero, Galinda's attention wandered to her lady's maid, who was likely waiting for her in her own room.

"Do tell, Shenshen. What is my ugly lady's maid like downstairs?" the Princess asked.

Shenshen, brushing Milla's hair, blurted,

"Oh, she's terrible, Your Royal Highness!"

Galinda smirked, pleased that she was not alone in her feelings.

"May I speak freely, Your Royal Highness?" Shenshen asked.

"Tell us your mind, girl," Galinda said.

"Thank you, Your Royal Highness," Shenshen said, clearing her throat, her dark black eyes focusing, her frame straightening as if she was about to deliver an official report, "Miss Thropp is hard to look at, and yet she doesn't care a lick about her burdensome appearance. She never asks to bathe. She refuses to wash her face or hands before morning and evening prayers. She leaves her hair pinned in those unattractive braids and her temperament fares no better. Her face knows no other expression except dour. She refuses to talk to anyone, never laughs, and won't even sit with us. She's quite insufferable, Your Royal Highness."

"As I expected. It does indeed tax the soul to be forced in close proximity to such sour putrescent flesh," Galinda said.

"Never a truer word has been spoken about her, Your Royal Highness," Shenshen noted.

"Perhaps she's lonely," Milla said, "It must be hard to move to a faraway land where you don't know anyone. I imagine she's terribly homesick. Maybe, once she's adjusted to life here in Gillikin, her spirits and demeanor will improve."

Shenshen wrinkled her nose and Galinda said,

"Oh, cousin, you're too good! But, lonely isn't the proper word to describe her. I should say the creature is _ungrateful_! Why should Gillikin employ any Munchkinlanders at all after the war? And, not only have we taken in that thing, but it appears we took in the whole Thropp family!"

Milla looked as if she had more to say, but instead she closed her mouth, and nodded.

"Miss Morrible told us how she insulted Gillikinese women and your punishment for her. Your Royal Highness was exceedingly merciful. I don't see how Your Royal Highness can bear it," Shenshen said, "Especially after having been attended by someone as beautiful and as smart as Miss Clutch. It's a pity Miss Clutch had to leave us. She was quite kind to us all downstairs."

"Yes, I, too, wish that Miss Clutch could have stayed with us longer," Galinda said, sighed, and rose from the bed, "Well, dear cousin, I must be getting to bed myself, if I am finish my lessons, before having to meet with the Prince again. Fresh dreams!" she said and kissed Milla on the cheek.

Closing her cousin's door, Galinda walked down the hall and her heartbeat thripple-throppled in her chest. She hadn't seen her lady's maid since that morning. The thought of being close to her, smelling her scent, feeling her hands undress her, made Galinda's breath shallow.

The Princess approached her bedroom door, placed her palm on it, taped her fingers quietly, before she took a breath and opened it. Her room had been readied: her combs cleaned and in order, her sheets pulled down, a sprig of lavender placed on her pillows, a fresh chemise laid out for her, the drapes pulled to a close, a silver pitcher of water and a goblet placed on her bedside table. And, there, by her bed, stood Elphaba motionless, a stiffening in her shoulders the only sign that she was aware of Galinda's entry.

The princess's eyes raked over her. What a rush of relief seeing Elphaba— alone, submissive, and away from the prying eyes of the supper table. Galinda waited for her lady's maid to look up, but the Munchkinlander didn't. Well, how long was the stupid green creature going to stand there awkwardly? It bothered Galinda that Elphaba didn't give her any attention and it bothered her more when she realized she wanted it. Galinda waltzed toward her vanity and said,

"I'm glad you've collected yourself after this morning. The burden you put on Nanny with all your incompetence is beyond selfish."

Elphaba said nothing, nor moved. She inhaled and exhaled in steady beats.

"I addressed you, creature!"

Looking up, Elphaba glared at Galinda with such fury, the Princess flinched.

"My apologies," Elphaba said in a low voice, her black-brown eyes molten, "I wasn't aware a reply was necessary, Your Royal Highness."

Galinda' cheeks warmed at the brazen response.

"Whenever I speak to you, you will respond with at least a 'Yes, Your Royal Highness.' Is that clear, you ugly green bean?"

"Yes, Your Royal Highness," Elphaba mimicked.

If that's the attitude Elphaba was going to take this evening, Galinda would just have to show that stupid vegetable that she would not deny her anything—neither in word nor in flesh. Galinda walked up to Elphaba so that their bodies were inches apart. She envisioned her lady's maid naked: smooth and green, hard angles and wet folds, crackly hair and swollen skin. Elphaba held her breath. Galinda smiled at the Munchkinlander's unease, letting a minute pass before she looked at herself in her vanity mirror and noticed a smudge of sauce by her chin.

"Oh! How foul!" she said and wiped it.

"Yes, Your Royal Highness, how foul," Elphaba said. Galinda's eyes whipped back to her. A restrained smile formed at the corners of Elphaba's mouth. So the stupid creature thought she could mock her, did she?

"Did you happen to see the way the Prince looked at me at supper?" Galinda asked "Oh! That's right, I'm sure you can't see a thing behind your veil!"

"I cannot see well, but I'm sure the Prince's disgust wasn't meant for Your Royal Highness. It was likely an upset stomach. It's rumored that cook's duck was underdone," Elphaba said.

Galinda winced, the whites of her eyes growing.

"How dare you suggest he looked at me with disgust! An unloved troll like you wouldn't know the difference between attraction and indigestion! The only emotion anyone feels when they look at you is revulsion!"

Elphaba's body froze and Galinda sneered. No Munchkinlander maid would ever best Princess Galinda Upland!

"In all your years, no man has ever loved you. Isn't that right?" Galinda asked. Elphaba's jaw spasmed. Galinda stepped closer and rose to her tip-toes. "Isn't that right, _my dirty little monster_?" she purred in Elphaba's ear, wedging a pink finger between the Munchkinlander's apron and dress and sliding it along her waist. Elphaba jerked back as if she'd been burned. Galinda grinned. She grabbed Elphaba's apron and pulled. Elphaba stumbled forward, her lips brushing the Princess' brow, before she leaned back, and Galinda hissed,

"Answer me, before you force me to punish you again!"

"Yes, Your Royal Highness," Elphaba breathed.

"Yes, what?" Galinda asked.

"Yes, Your Royal Highness is right...no man has ever loved me."

"Just as I thought," Galinda said, "Now, show me your hands."

Elphaba raised an eyebrow, but Galinda just smiled. The Munchkinlander presented her gloved appendages and Galinda pulled off the gloves, tossing them to the floor. Elphaba's long, shapely fingers stiffened between them.

"After this morning, I don't think you need those. As we've seen, your predicament doesn't spread."

Elphaba's eyes fell to her feet, her shoulders straightening.

"Have you managed to stay clean since your little bath?" Galinda asked.

The Munchkinlander's eyes grew, her hands sliding behind her. She took a step back.

"You left, very, very wet. Are there oils that can clean that?" Galinda asked and Elphaba's nostrils flared, "Shenshen says you don't even clean yourself before prayers."

"Your Royal Highness knows I clean myself. I just don't use water like the rest. I use my oils," Elphaba said.

"Again, with the water nonsense! After this morning, I thought you would have learned!" Galinda said and stepped closer.

"Please, Your Royal Highness...," Elphaba whispered, stepping backwards and bumping into the bedpost.

Her lady's maid wasn't so haughty now. Galinda had won their little battle of the wills. She had shown the troll her proper place. She could stop here and let the matter drop, but the memory of Fiyero gawking at Elphaba over supper pushed Galinda further. "If you refuse to properly bath then you will have to demonstrate that you've kept yourself clean," Galinda said and moved to her bedside table to fill her goblet. She strolled back in front of Elphaba, who had shut her eyes. Galinda took a sip of water and said, "Well, are you going to undress or shall I help?"

Elphaba shook her head, mumbling, "Please, not again, Your Royal Highness...please... I can't do those things—"

"Remove your clothes now, before I have you tied down, and remove them myself!" Galinda said, taking another sip. That stupid creature would think twice before she tried to defy her again. Elphaba shook her head. Her pleadings coming out in long jumbled sentences.

Such an ugly, stupid monster. Galinda's hand rose to the top of Elphaba's collar, but before she could unbutton it, Elphaba clenched the Princess' wrist in a clammy hand.

"How dare you. How dare you try to stop me!" Galinda shouted and instinctually threw her water in Elphaba's face. Elphaba gasped, her back hunching, her pupils dilating, her arms stiffening and rounding out before her. Galinda took a step back, dropping her empty goblet. Elphaba fell to her knees, trickles of sweat ran down her neck, her thighs squinched, her hands delved into her hair and disheveled her braids. Her hips bucked back and forth.

"No, not here! It can't happen here. Not in front of—" Elphaba's words were cut off by a deep throaty moan.

Listening to Elphaba's growl, Galinda realized Elphaba wasn't _allergic_ to water, so much as water was an overpowering aphrodisiac for Elphaba. Her lady's maid, gripping her dress, gritting her teeth, clenching her eyes shut, was trying to prevent herself from orgasming. What a delicious surprise! With another splash, she could make Elphaba completely submit. The Princess grinned and grabbed the whole pitcher of water from her bedside table.

Standing before the panting green woman, she ordered,

"Take off your clothes now or I'll douse you again!"

Elphaba's glanced up from the floor, her chest heaving.

"You heard me. Take off that dress and stand!" Galinda said, tilting the pitcher.

Elphaba's eyes widened and her fingers sprang to her sweat-soaked dress. Wheezing while she unbuttoned, she pulled it off and stood naked. Trembling, she hid her breasts behind her arms and placed her palms over her womanhood.

Galinda's felt her own nipples tighten. She could keep her lady's maid bare before her as long as she wanted.

Galinda circled behind the Munchkinlander and Elphaba tensed. Galinda stopped. Sapphire eyes gazed at green buttocks that were firm and perfectly round. Galinda couldn't help herself. She reached down and cupped one cheek in her hand, squeezing it in her palm.

Elphaba flinched as she gasped.

"Stand still, creature! I'm not finished with my inspection," Galinda said and Elphaba squeezed her nether cheeks together. Galinda smirked. It didn't matter what Elphaba closed. She could force Elphaba open. She could make her open her legs, her buttocks, her womanhood. The Princess walked back around. Elphaba's cheeks were dark with shame and her lips pursed tight.

Galinda took a finger and glided it across Elphaba's sweaty collarbone. The Munchkinlander trembled, goosebumps appearing on her arms.

"You're quite sensitive to my touch, aren't you, my dirty little monster?" Galinda asked and Elphaba's eyes hardened. "If you want to keep your position as my lady's maid, don't make me wait for your answers," Galinda said and the Munchkinlander's shoulders drooped.

"I am...Your Royal Highness," Elphaba whispered.

Galinda smiled.

"Stretch your arms out at your sides," she commanded. Elphaba glared at Galinda and asked,

"Why must Your Royal Highness do this? If I am so ugly to you, wouldn't it be better if I stay dressed?"

"If you weren't so stubborn and cleaned yourself, I wouldn't have to check you at all. Now hurry, before I wet you again," Galinda said and cocked back her arm.

Elphaba sighed through her nose. Her hands released her sex. With her thighs still tight, she raised her arms to shoulder height. Her hands pointed east and west and her dark teats pointed at the Princess.

"My, my! It doesn't seem like I'm punishing you at all. You're rather enjoying this," Galinda said and plunked one of Elphaba's hardened nipples. The Munchkinlander quivered, her cheeks charcoaling, her jaw rigid. Galinda's hot palm fell between Elphaba's bare breasts. She slid her fingers downward. Her nails scratching Elphaba's stomach, stopping right before her mound.

"I can't see if you're clean, if you don't spread your legs," Galinda said.

"Your Royal Highness has already seen me bath this morning," Elphaba said, raising her chin, arms still stretched.

"And I will check you again, now, and whenever I want. As long as you are in this castle, you will do whatever I want you to do. Do you understand?" Galinda asked. Elphaba shut her eyes, her body stiffening.

Surely, the stupid troll would quit rather than subject herself to further humiliation. Galinda lowered her hand. This would be the night that her father's punishment would end. Galinda had finally broke the Munchkinlander, but why wasn't she more excited?

Galinda didn't have time to think about it, because Elphaba spread her feet a foot apart. Galinda's eyebrows rose. Would the troll still insist on being her lady's maid? Was there nothing Galinda could subject the creature to that would make her leave? Would she be stuck with her for all eternity? The Princess clenched her hands.

"Am I to lean over and check you, you stupid vegetable? Put your right foot on my bed," Galinda instructed.

Elphaba's eyes grew. If she raised her foot to Galinda's bed, she would more than expose herself, she would display her every nook and cranny.

"Now!" Galinda yelled.

After a long pause, Elphba exhaled, her chin falling as she raised her leg and placed her foot on Galinda's bed.

Elphaba's green nether leaves hung in front of her, a thin trail of moisture dangling. Galinda's heart flip-flopped. Elphaba's jumble of green folds were pulled back to reveal her protruding clit and hidden cleft. Elphaba's cheeks were darker than Galinda thought possible, her eyes looking off in the distance.

Galinda couldn't take her eyes from Elphaba. She wanted to touch her, to make her sing. _I don't desire her_ , Galinda thought. It wasn't _desire_ for Elphaba that made Galinda take a step closer. It wasn't desire for her that made her wonder what Elphaba's mouth tasted like. It wasn't desire that made Galinda want to ride Elphaba's sweaty body unconscious. It was simply unadulterated loathing. Loathing made her want to crush her enemy under her heel. Galinda cupped Elphaba's warm soft leaves in her hand. Elphaba's eyes bulged before she clenched them shut.

"You're mine, my dirty little monster," Galinda said and joggled Elphaba's vagina below. Elphaba released a whimper. Galinda slid her fingers between lady's maid's wet crevices. "My very very wet little monster," Galinda whispered in Elphaba's ear and the Munchkinlander swallowed.

Her dirty little monster was humiliated and trembling, but Galinda wanted more. And, why shouldn't a Princess have what a Princess wanted?

Galinda took a step back and flung the pitcher of water at Elphaba's chest. Her lady's maid gasped, her eyes shooting open.

"Why?"Elphaba moaned, her knees quaking. "I did what you asked. Whyyy," Elphaba moaned.

"You showed me yourself. But you weren't clean," Galinda said and shoved Elphaba's weakened body backwards onto her bed. Galinda hoisted her dress up and climbed on top of Elphaba. Sitting on the thrashing Munckinlander's abdomen, Galinda put her knees on Elphaba's arms, pinning her maid. Galinda slid her hand underneath her own womanhood to touch Elphaba's below, rubbing all around the Munchkinlander's soaked sex.

"Please, don't—!" Elphaba cried out as her pulsating sex dribbled against Galinda's hand. As Galinda looked in Elphaba's scared black eyes, she imagined Miss Clutch beneath her, humping and moaning. Galinda's pelvis jerked hard against her hand that cupped Elphaba's sex. She could hear Miss Clutch calling her name. Galinda shut her eyes and rode her bucking lady's maid until Elphaba released a scream, her chest rising, her eyes squeezed shut, her thighs tightening. Elphaba's body surrendered, but Galinda wasn't finished.

If only Galinda had more time with Miss Clutch, if only her father hadn't taken her away. She could have made Miss Clutch feel things, good things. Galinda would have loved Miss Clutch so much more tenderly than her father had. Galinda stroked in and out of her lady's maid's folds.

Elphaba writhed, tossing her head back and forth wildly.

"I can't bear it! No more, please Your Royal Highness!"

Galinda tightened her legs around Elphaba, her thumb strumming Elphaba's long knot as her fingers felt downward. They stopped at a tight wet opening. Elphaba's eyes widened in shock. Terrified, she bucked her hips hard to throw Galinda off but the Princess wouldn't be moved.

"Your Royal Highness has no permission to—" Elphaba shouted.

"I don't need a maid's permission, you fool!" Galinda said and slid two fingers slowly past the entrance of Elphaba's sopping cleft.

"You can't!" Elphaba sobbed, her thighs squeezing Galinda's wrist. But, Galinda slid in further. Elphaba's tight opening hugged and sucked her fingers. What exquisite wetness! Elphaba's mouth opened in the shape of a scream, but no sound came. Her brown eyes wide, her face trembling. Galinda's womanhood ached as she gazed at Elphaba's taut frame.

"Noooo!" Elphaba finally shouted but Galinda's fingers pushed deeper. In spite of her lady's maid's shrieks, Elphaba's sex accommodated her.

"Is this what's it's like inside a dirty little monster?" Galinda said as she slid her thickly glazed fingers, ever so slowly, in and out of Elphaba while her thumb brushed against Elphaba's swollen nub. In and out. Up and down. In and out. No matter how Elphaba objected, her sex squeezed down on Galinda's fingers again and again.

Galinda shut her eyes and recalled dreams of Miss Clutch. Elphaba's protests morphed into groans and whimpering, her hips thrusting feverishly. Galinda's palm slapped against Elphaba's wet vaginal leaves until Galinda's sex clenched so hard, she almost teetered off her twisting lady's maid. Instead she ground her womanhood downward, and groaned.

Elphaba's bucking stilled as she passed out beneath Galinda.

Galinda opened her eyes. Seeing Elphaba's green limp body, soaked in sweat, her firm breasts, long plump nipples, the soft concave of her stomach, her perfectly shaped hip bones, her black hair spread about her, Galinda was stunned. Her lady's maid was beautiful. Galinda sucked her tooth. Impossible. The monster, beautiful? She must still be giddy from her fantasies of Miss Clutch.

Galinda removed her fingers from Elphaba. A thick opaque coating of Elphaba's excitement covered them. What was she doing with the troll? She couldn't deny that she had gone way past tormenting her. Her own body had reacted as well. Except it was Miss Clutch Galinda wanted, right? Confused, Galinda scooted off the bed.

She grabbed a handkerchief and wiped off her hand, but the scent of her lady's maid was still strong. Galinda expected a wave of nausea to overtake her but instead her stomach's rolling remained pleasant. Pleasant in a way she didn't want to think about. She didn't desire Elphaba. Galinda was still in control. She didn't _need_ Elphaba. Her lady's maid could leave. No, the creature should leave! The sooner the better. The Princess would just have to try harder. She gazed back at Elphaba sleeping on her bed. She had half a mind to throw another pitcher of water on her, but she didn't. Instead Galinda climbed back on the bed and rolled the naked Munchkinlander off.

CLUNK!

Elphaba hit the stone floor and moaned. She rubbed her head as she stood.

"Hurry!" Galinda said, sliding off the bed and standing in the middle of the room. "After you remove my clothes, you may get dressed. Just remember, for every night you refuse to wash before evening prayers, you will undress for me to inspect you. Do you understand?" Galinda asked. Elphaba, bare before her, with her head bowed, said in a voice hoarse from screaming,

"Yes, Your Royal Highness."

The next morning, Galinda half expected Nanny to come dress her and tell her Elphaba left the castle. But, her green lady's maid appeared at her doorway. Galinda, standing by her vanity, raised an eyebrow at her, but Elphaba kept her gaze down and went to the Princess' wardrobe.

"What shall I dress you in, Your Royal Highness?" Elphaba asked, her voice hollow.

"My pink dress from Frottica with the white sash," the Princess said.

Elphaba nodded and in moments she was attempting to fasten Galinda's corset. The leather sagged against Galinda's skin.

"Pull the laces tighter, green bean," Galinda yelled and turned around and cupped Elphaba's loose breasts behind her yellow dress. " _These_ need to come up. They would be _here_ if you gave any evidence of having developed into a full woman."

Galinda could feel Elphaba's nipples harden and poke at her behind the cloth. Elphaba grit her teeth but didn't budge. With flushed cheeks and her eyes looking down, all she said was,

"Yes, Your Royal Highness."

Galinda rolled her eyes and turned around. Was this some new tactic that the Munchkinlander was trying — pretending not to feel? Well, she would make sure Elphaba properly responded to her that evening. For now, she had to get ready for the Prince.

After her morning lessons, Galinda took Prince Fiyero on a walk through the rose gardens where the couple engaged in light flirting, interspersed with Galinda's questions about the architecture and food of the Vinkus. When the couple finished their walk, they sat for tea in the Green Gallery of the West Wing before supper. It was smaller than the Red Gallery but Galinda loved the oil paintings of the royal women that had lived in Runcible Castle.

"And, who is she?" Fiyero asked, standing next to a large portrait of a young woman sitting by a table that overlooked moors, on a chair that had been covered in white tiger furs, dressed in a flowing mauve dress with large billowy sleeves, her brunette hair pinned back with pearls, her eyes both sure and surprised.

"She's my father's mother," Galinda said smiling, sitting on a bench near the window, "At the time she was called Princess Hananaiuh, later— Queen Hananaiuh."

"She had no brothers?" Fiyero asked.

"One. He died of black fever when he was young, so my grandmother Hananaiuh took the position of Queen of Runcible Castle."

"But, I didn't think Gillikin allowed female ruling heads, like in Munchkinland, where it seems preferred," Fiyero said.

Galinda's eyebrow rose. She was struck by the impertinent question.

"You mean Munchkinland, _before the war_ ," Galinda said, "The only ruling head of Munchkinland, now, is my father."

Fiyero sniggered.

"Are you laughing at me?" Galinda asked, rising.

"Not at you. I swear I didn't mean to offend King Upland, much less the most beautiful princess in all of Oz. Please don't be cross with me," Fiyero said and bowed his head for a moment of contrition. Galinda inhaled and nodded. "You see," he continued, "King Upland's victory over Munchkinland is very recent and I have grown up my whole life hoping to visit Munchkinland."

"But, why would you ever want to visit it?"

"For the same reasons King Upland wanted to conquer it, I suppose," Fiyero said honestly.

Galinda's eyes grew. The Prince had been so charming in the rose gardens, why did he insist on upsetting her now.

"And what would those be?" she asked, raising her chin and crossing her arms.

"Munchkinlanders are famous for their cloths and spinners, their jewel mines of diamonds and emeralds, and of course their art. Speaking of which, the voice we heard yesternight over supper was quite breathtaking. She was a Munchkinlander, was she not?"

Galinda felt her heartbeat quicken.

"Yes," she whispered.

"Why was her face veiled? I should think we could hear her better if she sang unveiled."

"She's green, that's why!" Galinda said. Surely this tiding would end Fiyero's accolades of Munchkinland.

"Green? You mean to say it was Elphaba Thropp who sang to us? Elphaba Thropp, third descending of the royal family from Munchkinland—before the war, of course."

Galinda's stomach dropped.

"You know her?" she asked.

"I have yet to be formally introduced, but everyone in the Vinkus knows that the next Eminent Thropp was a green woman. I don't think there are any other green Munchkinlanders, or Ozians, for that matter. Stories about Elphaba Thropp were quite popular and circulated among both Winkie royalty and commoners."

Galinda swallowed and said,

"Her skin's hideous, not at all beautiful like yours."

Fiyero laughed.

"Not all Ozians think Winkies are beautiful," he said. "I am quite glad you found me so, or I suppose I would be wearing a sack over my head too."

Galinda gasped, her arms stiffening.

"Of course not! Why are you being so disagreeable? Everyone knows a handsome Winkie Prince is not the same as a castle servant!"

"Ah, but Elphaba wasn't always a servant. Munchkinland royal women were educated and allowed to read, not like a typical Gillikinese servant, or for that matter a Gillikinese royal lady."

Galinda's cheeks prickled with heat. How dare the Prince insult her! How dare he suggest a Munchkinlander servant was in any way superior to a Gillikinese princess!

"If you find me so dull and stupid, I shall have my father entertain you until dinner, instead of me," Galinda said and started to walk away from the Winkie Prince toward the door when Fiyero grabbed Galinda's wrist.

"My apologies! I spoke without thinking."

Galinda turned back toward Fiyero.

"Any Ozian can see you are gorgeous, overflowing with life and wit," the Winkie Prince said, "When I spoke of Munchkinland educating their women, I did not mean to say that you weren't smart. You have a gifted mind and your nature is lovely. If you were allowed to read, I could only imagine how the ideas would blossom to even greater beauty within your mind."

Galinda eyes widened and Fiyero dropped her wrist.

"Do you really think so?" Galinda asked.

"Why, of course, why shouldn't they? Don't you ever wonder what it would be like to read?"

Galinda flushed. Of course she had. Every since Miss Clutch read to her in their library she had wondered what it would be like to read lessons and stories whenever she desired, about anything she desired. But, admitting she cared about reading would be tantamount to admitting she was presently deficient, or at least inferior to her Munchkinlander servant.

"Not at all. My days are filled with lessons in dancing, painting, and prayers. Why would I ever want to waste time with a male activity like reading?" she asked.

"Your lessons have bestowed on you a grace and beauty that no woman in Oz can match. But, reading doesn't have to replace that; it could accentuate your beauty. And, what about other ladies in Gillikin who are not endowed with the same natural wit? Surely, it's clear that your cousin Milla, while kind, could sharpen her intellect with some books."

Galinda's eyes widened and she huffed.

"I'm sure you meant that as a compliment to me, but I don't think that's clear about my cousin at all. If you spent more time with Milla, you would find she's already very bright and talented, a most lovely young woman," Galinda said, looking away.

"Alas, I had meant to ask for your pardon and it seems I continue to vex you. Please accept my deepest apologies," Fiyero said and bowed low.

"I will accept them, on one condition."

"Tell me. I'll do whatever you want."

"Let us talk no more about Munchkinland while you are here."

"Agreed," Fiyero said, smiling.

"Now, let me show you what Gillikin has to offer," Galinda said and took Fiyero's hand.

Fiyero eyes fell to Galinda's hand and then came up to Galinda's ample chest. He flushed. Reddening, Galinda dropped his hand and corrected herself,

"Paintings. Let me show you all the paintings and art that Gillikin has to offer."

"I'd be delighted," Fiyero said. Galinda smiled and proceeded to give him a tour of the galleries until they were called for supper.

After their meal ended, Galinda's excused herself before the after-supper drinks came, and wandered to the library by herself with a candle. She hadn't come back to the library since Miss Clutch's departure. But, all this talk of reading with Fiyero made her want to see it again. Once inside, she closed the door behind her. Her eyes scanned the room and stopped at the sofa where she and Miss Clutch had often sat— and, where her father had violated her. Galinda's heart stung. She closed her eyes and whispered a short blessing for Miss Clutch. The scent of lavender and cinnamon perfume wafted toward Galinda. She opened her eyes expecting to see Miss Clutch before her, but she was alone in the dark room; her heart beat fast. She moved to light several oil lamps on desks and tables.

After the room was properly lit, Galinda saw the book that Miss Clutch would often read to her about the Kumbric Witch. She walked over and touched the pale red binding with the gold lettering she couldn't understand. Miss Clutch told her it read, "The Good Witch of the Great Gillikin Forest."

Galinda pulled the book off the shelf and opened it. Her fingers tracing the lines. They were such pretty markings. As she turned the thick pages, she inhaled that wonderful book scent and heard Miss Clutch's voice reading.

As she turned another page, the library door opened. Galinda whipped around and saw her drunk father staring bewildered at her.

"What are you doing in here, Galinda?" he shouted.

"Father, I'm sorry. I just wanted to see the books once more," she said and quickly put the red book back.

"I told you, you weren't allowed in here! You willfully disobeyed me!" he said, walking toward her.

Galinda skirted around the sofas and scurried toward the library door. She just entered the hall, when her father clutched her arm, and threw her up against the wall. Galinda felt a sharp pain in her back and lost her breath. He grabbed her shoulders and shook her. Galinda's heartbeat rattled in her ears. She hated her father when he was drunk. He never touched her, except when he had been drinking and got angry with her.

"Why didn't you listen?" he shouted, placing a hand at the base of her neck and pushing her against the wall, while his other meaty hand held her waist.

"I didn't mean to disobey you," Galinda choked. "I promise I wasn't trying to read. I just wanted to look at the markings."

SMACK!

Galinda's cheek stung. Her father grabbed her hair.

"Don't talk back to me, girl!" he said, while his other hand slid up her ribcage.

"Father, please!" Galinda screamed.

"I had to let her go because of you! If only you had listened to me and stayed in your room that night!"

"Father, don't!" Galinda said and King Upland's hands stopped. She twisted away from him and rushed down the hallway, unaware of the green figure hiding behind a hallway column.


	5. Chapter 5

King Upland disappeared down the hallway and Elphaba released her breath. She was on her way to prepare the Princess' room when Galinda and her father had burst out of the library. She hid behind the column and watched the King pitch Galinda against the wall. How could he touch his own daughter like that?

Since coming to the castle, Elphaba had cursed Galinda—more than once. May the Princess trip and fall when she dances. May she wake up suddenly hideous. May her betrothed publicly denounce and revile her. May she catch a touch of the plague.

May she be stripped and humiliated like she had humiliated her.

But, seeing Galinda handled that way, her father's hands dangerously close to her breasts, ripping at her hair, squeezing the breath out of her, didn't make Elphaba feel better. Instead, the King's behavior and Galinda's frightened screams turned her stomach. Elphaba sighed.

Could she be more pitiful? Was she really feeling sorry for the cold-hearted Princess? Why couldn't she just thank the Unnamed God for giving Galinda what she deserved? Elphaba had to stop feeling sorry. She had to stop feeling anything at all before she made it to Galinda's room. The Princess' touching had crossed a line. She had made Elphaba feel things she wasn't aware she could feel. She had felt her in places Elphaba hadn't even touched herself. And, now Galinda knew what water did to her.

Elphaba would never wash herself with water in front of the others. She wouldn't give anyone else the chance to hurt her like Galinda had. The only way to survive Galinda's disgusting inspections was to feel nothing. She would dull herself. Tuck herself away. Be nowhere at all when tending to the Princess. Nanny had been right. Galinda could only take pleasure in hurting her, if she showed that it hurt.

Holding a pitcher of water and Galinda's goblet on a tray, Elphaba ascended a spiral flight of stone steps, her legs heavy, as if she were climbing sand. At the top of the stairwell, the Munchkinlander closed her eyes and remembered the Princess' expression. Blonde hair falling round her while she sneered, her pink fingers squeezing their way inside her. Elphaba cringed. How pathetic she must of looked, pleading and begging for Galinda to stop, but coming for her anyway. Warmth welled behind Elphaba's eyes. She bit the inside of her cheek— hard. She couldn't feel sorry for herself. Not when Nessa and Shell were depending on her.

Opening her eyes, Elphaba walked down the hall to the Princess' room. Her door was closed. She breathed in deep, and knocked against the thick oak.

After a long pause, Elphaba raised her knuckles to knock again, when Galinda said in a soft voice,

"Come in."

Opening the door, the Princess sat at her vanity with her back to her. The Princess' face in the mirror was vacant, her eyelids red and raw.

In a blink, Galinda's eyes were staring at her from the mirror. A cold angry expression. Elphaba flinched, the tray in her hand shaking. Elphaba raised her chin. Feel nothing. Don't let her see you.

She held Galinda's gaze for a long moment before Galinda sighed and said,

"What are you waiting for? Prepare my room."

The Munchkinlander nodded. She set down the tray by Galinda's bedside table. Trying to keep King Upland out of her mind, she tended to her tasks. She closed the drapes, her last task, before turning toward Galinda who had removed her hair ornaments and still sat crumpled at her vanity.

"Shall I ready Your Royal Highness for bed?"

Galinda rose from her chair and nodded. Elphaba removed Galinda's clothes, expecting at any moment that Galinda would pull at her apron or slide her hand over her bony curves or backside. But, Galinda didn't. Removing Galinda's last article of clothing, her corset, Elphaba took her time bringing it to Galinda's wardrobe. There was nothing left to remove.

Would Galinda's inspection begin now? The inevitable command to strip and show herself while being forced to "confess" how much she enjoyed it.

Elphaba turned. In a low whisper, she asked, "Does Your Royal Highness need anything else?"

"No. You may go," Galinda said staring at her bed.

Was she really free to go? No insults? No degrading names? No touching her against her will? Elphaba didn't wait for Galinda to change her mind, she left the Princess and went to bed.

The next morning Galinda was waiting for Elphaba.

"Hurry up, you ugly vegetable! I should like to begin my morning lessons sometime today!" she barked, standing in the middle of the room.

Elphaba's shoulders drooped. So the Princess was back to her horrendous self, was she? How disappointing her shift in demeanor hadn't even lasted a full day.

Elphaba brought Galinda's corset over when she noticed them.

Bruises on the Princess' neck. Large sausage-finger bruises.

Elphaba paused.

The Princess looked up.

"What's wrong with you, creature?"

"Nothing, Your Royal Highness," Elphaba said.

"Well, then, get on with it!" the Princess said.

Elphaba slid the corset on and pulled the laces tight when the Princess inhaled sharply.

"Is Your Royal Highness, all right?" Elphaba asked, letting the laces slacken, remembering how the King squeezed his daughter's ribs after pelting her against the stone wall.

"I'm fine. Keep the laces tight like I told you," Galinda said.

Elphaba raised an eyebrow, hesitating.

"Pull, you fool!" Galinda shouted.

Why did Galinda punish herself like this? Elphaba pulled gently.

"Tighter!" Galinda yelled.

"Like this?" Elphaba asked, yanking them shut.

Galinda gasped and bit her lip to stop from crying out in pain.

"Just...like that," Galinda whispered.

The Munchkinlander finished dressing Galinda in a pink dress with pearl and gold accessories when Galinda, pretending nothing was out of the ordinary, said,

"Today I will wear a scarf."

Elphaba knew why the Princess wanted extra covering. Before Galinda could select one, Elphaba presented a white fur shawl from Galinda's wardrobe that would hide King Upland's handiwork.

"Yes, that will be fine," Galinda said and Elphaba wrapped it over the dark reds and maroonish-purples.

Galinda looked at herself in her vanity, touching the fur.

"Can you see the—" Galinda stopped herself, her cheeks reddening, her gaze falling.

Elphaba looked at Galinda in the mirror and said,

"Your Royal Highness is beautiful. _No different_ than every other morning."

The Munchkinlander thought she saw Galinda's blush deepen before she whispered,

"Thank you. That will be all."

 _Your Royal Highness is beautiful?!_ Elphaba escaped the Princess' room, almost at a run. Galinda's pitiful expression had coaxed the words out, but the compliment left her mouth with an unanticipated ease—as if she had really meant it. The mortification would have been overwhelming if Galinda's response hadn't been so unexpected. _Thank you?_ The Princess had never thanked her for anything. Commands and insults were the only conversations the Princess had with her.

Had Galinda changed? Elphaba shook her head. She knew better than to hope for the impossible. When the Princess got over the embarrassment of the bruises, she would most certainly restart her _inspections_.

Turning the corner to head to the servant's kitchen, Elphaba bumped into Mrs. Morrible.

"Pardon me," Elphaba said, stepping back.

The older woman, with white sandy hair wrapped into a frazzled raisin-loaf bun on her head, turned and glared. Elphaba knew the head housekeeper didn't care for her. She frequently embarrassed Elphaba, pointing at her from the other end of the servant's table and lecturing her about her inadequacies as a lady's maid, while the servants snickered and whispered.

"El-pha-ba," Morrible said as if she was spitting pieces of fat out of her mouth, "In the way, as always, I see."

Elphaba sighed through her nose.

"King Upland wants to see you. You are to meet him at the stables at once," Morrible said.

"King Upland?" Elphaba said.

Was there a chance he had seen her hiding last night? Why the stables? Was he going to punish her where no one could see?

"Did he say why?" Elphaba asked.

"A King has no need for reasons like a servant has no need for questions" said Morrible, "Now get! You miserable pock!"

Elphaba trudged through the damp grasses to the stables when she caught sight of King Upland and a blue man in a green suit. So this must be the Winkie Prince from last night.

"Ah! Elphaba, my girl! We are going to host this year's Harvest Festival in honor of Prince Fiyero and you will have the privilege of representing me in the archery contest!" King Upland announced. "Elphaba is famous for her skills in archery."

Elphaba's eyes widened. So she wouldn't be punished for last night. But, what kind of competition was this? She hadn't practiced archery since the war. The King's speech was cut short by the Horse Master who ran toward them, calling for the King to check on one of his mares. Following the Horse Master, the King left Elphaba and Fiyero alone.

Elphaba didn't move. She kept her eyes fixed on the horizon. She would wait for the King to return and properly dismiss her.

The Winkie Prince stared at her.

"So, they let you show your face sometimes?" he asked.

Elphaba clenched her dress. Was the _blue_ Prince about to comment on her _green_ skin. How painfully ironic.

"Yes, outside of meal times, Your Royal Highness," she said.

"You're as beautiful as the legends say you are," he said.

Elphaba's mouth fell open like a loose hinge, before she quickly closed it. Ozians had never hesitated voicing their opinions about her skin, but none had called it 'beautiful.' What did the Prince want from her?

"I'm sure bards prefer stories about Princesses, not their lady's maids, Your Royal Highness," she responded.

"But, you're not just a lady's maid. You're the next Eminent Thropp," Fiyero said.

"Where did Your Royal Highness hear that?"

"All Winkies know of Elphaba Thropp Third Descending of Munchkinland. It's an honor to finally meet you," Fiyero said and bowed low.

Elphaba couldn't remember when she had last been greeted with a bow. She curtsied, suddenly embarrassed by her buttercream servant's dress.

"Will you walk a bit with me?" Fiyero asked.

There was no way she could refuse a royal guest's request. But, for an instant, Elphaba wanted to maintain the facade she was free.

"I suppose I wouldn't mind a bit of fresh air," she said, pulling up her dress and walking toward the pathway.

The two walked through the meadow toward the orchards in quiet. Past the apple orchard. The walnut orchard. The lemon orchard. They walked until they ran out of orchards. She would have to return soon to prepare Galinda for the evening ball.

"How long have you been here?" Fiyero asked, breaking the silence Elphaba was enjoying.

"Not yet a month, Your Royal Highness," she said.

"It seems a strange place to come after the war and an even stranger choice of post."

Elphaba snorted. What choice does one have after losing a war? They hadn't brought enough silver to travel for months across Gillikin and through the Wiccasand Mountans. Nor did they bring enough jewels to travel south and bribe a sentry at the border of Quadling Country — a land famous for its antipathy toward foreigners. Becoming a lady's maid at the castle was the best Elphaba could do. If she and her siblings hadn't met Boq who had written to his aunt, Nanny's cousin, on their behalf asking about employment, they would have starved.

"Unfortunately, the position of Princess was already taken," Elphaba said.

"Ah, Princess Galinda," he said with a dreamy look. Elphaba snorted. Were all men the same when it came to Galinda? "She's a sight to behold," he said, "And I hear a skilled painter and a beautiful dancer. Have you seen her dance?"

Elphaba remembered Galinda in the ballroom. The Princess' feet never seemed to touch the floor. She floated above it like a playful leaf on an autumn day. Spinning in graceful circles, stopping in front of her, laughing, poking her, playing with her breasts. Elphaba grimaced and said,

"Yes, Your Royal Highness, I have."

"Please, you must call me Fiyero," the Prince said.

Elphaba raised an eyebrow.

"Please," he repeated.

"I don't think Runcible Castle will think that proper, Your Royal Highness," she said.

"It's my name. Shouldn't I decide what's proper about it?" he said.

Perhaps. But, what would happen after Prince Fiyero left? The servants despised her now, how would they treat her if they heard her calling a prince by his first name, not to mention Galinda. Elphaba didn't need any more reasons for the castle to hate her, but it also wasn't wise to refuse a guest's request.

"I could call you Fiyero when we're alone" she offered.

Fiyero grinned and asked,

"And, when, do tell, will we have another chance to _be_ _alone_?"

Elphaba swallowed. She heard the forward suggestion beneath Fiyero's question. Her eyes scanned the meadows. They were alone now—completely alone. Her heart started to race. How could she have been so stupid? Why would a prince ever ask a servant to take a walk somewhere secluded? If Fiyero wanted to take her here and now, no one would stop him.

"Forgive me, but I think it would be best if I returned. If the King is finished with me, the castle will insist I attend to my duties," the Munchkinlander said and turned back, speed-walking in the direction of the stables. The Prince's eyes grew. He ran after her and said,

"I've offended you?"

"I'm sure many maids would be more than honored by your interest in them—" Elphaba said, not meaning a word.

"What maids? My interest? What—" Fiyero's fell silent before he swore, "You've misunderstood! I don't have a penchant for bedding servants. Elphaba!" Grabbing her arm, he pulled her to a stop. The Munchkinlander kept very still, looking away from him. "I would never assume because of your status you would want to provide _those_ types of services nor would I ever force you."

Elphaba glanced at his eyes and saw a tender earnestness. Had she misjudged Fiyero? She was not used to true kindness. In her experience, it was the _kind_ who were the most dishonest, hiding their true intentions and desires behind flattery and favors. But as she stared, there was a sincerity in the Prince that disarmed her.

Fiyero added,

"I won't lie to you. You interest me, very much. It would please me if we could talk again in private, but only so we can speak freely. I want the chance to get to know the educated, gifted Elphaba Thropp, whose beauty is beyond compare, who is not at all like a servant. Not even shall we say like Gillikinese royal ladies who are too stupid to even spell their own names."

Elphaba wanted to laugh. Who would believe that the handsome Winkie Prince thought her beautiful and the Princess a fool! How furious Galinda would be. And, yet, Elphaba couldn't laugh. She remembered Galinda's frightened scream. _I promise I wasn't trying to read._ Galinda didn't have a choice. Neither did the servants.

"It's not stupidity that prevents the Princess from spelling her own name," she said walking past the lemon orchard.

Fiyero humfed.

"You're intriguing. You defend her even though she sees nothing wrong with covering your face for meals?"

Elphaba stiffened. She wasn't defending Galinda; she was defending her principles.

"The truth doesn't change with how I feel about the Princess."

"So you _don't_ care for Galinda?"

"I don't care for this conversation, if I can speak freely," Elphaba said, not prepared to trust Fiyero with her private feelings.

"I apologize for trying to engage a refined woman in gossip. And, please speak on whatever you like."

It had been so long since Elphaba had a real conversation with someone outside her family, she didn't know how to start. They walked in silence before she said stupidly,

"What brings you to Gillikin?"

Fiyero smiled at her, looking liked he wanted to tease her, but changed his mind and said,

"To be frank, after the Vinkus received news that Munchkinland fell, we've decided it's in our best interest to enter into an alliance with Gillikin."

"You're afraid that Gillikin might wage war against the Vinkus?"

"King Upland assures me he has no intention of it, but to be cautious, I'm to secure the King's _intention_ in writing."

"How long will you stay?" Elphaba said.

"For another two weeks, just until the Harvest Festival finishes. Will you give me the pleasure of seeing you several more times before I must return home?" Fiyero asked.

"I cannot promise you that."

"Then promise me you would like to see me," he said.

"I can't promise that either. I hardly know you," she said.

"Then, agree to promise you'll consider promising," he said.

Elphaba snorted and crossed her arms.

"Fine," she said, "I promise to consider promising."

Fiyero grinned, an extra skip in his step as they walked past another orchard. When they arrived at the stables, King Upland and the servants were gone.

"I suppose we shall have to part here," Fiyero said and took Elphaba's hand and brought it to his lips for a kiss. His lips lingered on the back of her palm. Soft and warm. A tender prickling filled Elphaba's chest.

"Miss Thropp!" a voice yelled and Elphaba wrenched back her hand.

It was Nanny. She was running toward them. Someone in the castle must have summoned her. What must Nanny think? Elphaba could have excused her afternoon walk, saying that the Prince had insisted, but there was no excuse for intimacies.

Nanny approached the couple and bowed to the Prince.

"Prince Fiyero, please forgive me for interrupting, but may I bring Miss Thropp back to the castle with me. We must prepare the royal family for the ball."

"Of course," Fiyero said and turned to Elphaba and said, "Thank you for a most enjoyable walk. Until we meet again."

He bowed and Elphaba returned his bow and turned away, rushing with Nanny to the castle. She was too ashamed to speak a word, her stomach a bundle of knives. Right before the two servants entered the castle, the old woman stopped and looked at Elphaba, searching her. Elphaba's cheeks flushed with heat.

"Your Eminence must never be caught alone with the Prince like that," Nanny said, "If Mrs. Morrible had found you instead of I, Your Eminence would have been dismissed and I can't even imagine how the Princess would have punished Your Eminence for it."

"Nothing happened between us," Elphaba said.

"That's nobody's business but Your Eminence's. Rest assured I won't tell a soul what I saw. But, Your Eminence must be more careful. I am an old woman and I've seen the dangers of a flattering man. His words as sweet as the freshest honeycomb, but its a ruse, Your Eminence. He'll bundle you in all sorts of praises to pull the one thing he wants from you," Nanny said.

"Please, Nanny. It won't happen again," Elphaba said.

The old woman exhaled, rubbed Elphaba's shoulders and said,

"Just remember my words."

Elphaba nodded and rushed to Galinda's room. When she entered, Galinda sat at her vanity talking to Milla who lie on her bed.

Galinda looked over Elphaba.

" _Where_ have you been?"

"By the stables, Your Royal Highness," Elphaba said, her heart tip-tippering.

"Why ever would you need to go there?" Galinda asked.

"I am to represent His Majesty in the archery contest at the festival."

Galinda raised an eyebrow. Could Galinda see that she was hiding something? Had someone already reported Fiyero's kiss? Would Galinda throw her out of the castle or worse yet, have her publicly beaten?

"Is there nothing too unseemly for a Munchkinlander woman?" the Princess said to no one in particular.

"Tell us, is it true that Munchkinlander women can read as well?" Milla asked. Galinda's eyes flipped to her cousin.

"Who told you that?" the Princess asked.

"I saw one read a pamphlet several weeks ago—the minstrel who accompanied the troupe of Munchkinland jesters who performed for the castle."

Galinda curled her lip and said,

"Oh, yes, that grotesque spectacle!"

"I thought they were charming," Milla said.

"Milla, you find charm in everyone, or rather you place it in them," Galinda said, smiling.

Elphaba's eyes darted between the cousins. Was she really in the clear? Had no one found out about her secret outing?

Turning toward her, Galinda asked,

"Well, are you going to answer Milla?"

What had Milla asked? Something about if women could read in Munchkinland?

"Muchkin women of high-ranking nobility can. And so can Munchkin ladies who've had access to a religious education, Your Ladyship," Elphaba said.

"Is it difficult?" Milla asked.

"Once one memorizes the letters and their accompanying sounds, one can read without even thinking about it," Elphaba said.

Galinda stared at her, eyes wide, like a child seeing snow for the first time.

"That's amazing. It's like magic," Milla said. "Could you show us—"

"Milla, I think it's best if we got ready for the ball," Galinda said, standing from her vanity. "Our guests from Tenniken shall be arriving soon.

"Oh, I suppose it is time. I think I shall only change my hair jewels and petticoat," Milla said, not moving from Galinda's bed. "Will you change into the red dress that King Upland brought back from Shiz? You look striking in it."

Galinda swallowed and looked down at her feet.

"I do rather enjoy wearing it for dances," the Princess confessed.

"Shall I fetch it for you, Your Royal Highness?" Elphaba asked.

Galinda looked at Elphaba and then at Milla. Her hand fidgeting with her sleeve.

The marks.

Galinda didn't want Milla to know what her father did. Elphaba watched the embarrassed Princess squirm. It wasn't Elphaba's problem. Galinda had humiliated Elphaba well beyond mere bruises. The Princess could find her own way out of this. Why did Elphaba need to worry about her? Galinda didn't care one bit about her well-being.

Galinda bit her lip.

Just how many times had King Upland done that to Galinda? Were slaps and squeezes the extent of his abuse or were there other ways he hurt her? Did anybody know about his behavior or was Galinda all alone?

Before she could stop herself, Elphaba blurted,

"If I can make a suggestion, Your Royal Highness?"

Galinda glared at her. Elphaba flinched. Why did she even try?

"What could be so important that you would speak out of turn?" Galinda asked, her hands on her hips.

"Perhaps, Her Ladyship could fetch the ruby and diamond earrings she was was wearing last night. It would match Your Royal Highness' dress," Elphaba said.

Galinda's eyes grew. She studied Elphaba, eyes full of curiosity. Or was it disbelief?

"What a fine idea!" Milla chimed in, "I'll just go and get them for you, Galinda."

"Thank you, my darling cousin. While you're out, see if you can't find Nanny and have her bring up some flowers for my hair," Galinda said and waited for Milla to leave before, she glanced at Elphaba and hissed, "Well, don't just stand there, creature. Remove my clothes before she comes back."

Elphaba sighed. What did she expect? That the spoiled Princess would thank her twice in one day? Elphaba removed Galinda's clothes, and was about to pull out her red dress, when Galinda said,

"Bring me a new chemise as well."

"Yes, Your Royal Highness," Elphaba said and plucked one out. When she turned around, she saw Galinda's backside—completely bare. Galinda's pink curves made Elphaba's stomach tremble. She walked closer with the chemise and noticed bruising along Galinda's back. Her eyes moved down to her round buttocks.

"Well?" Galinda asked and turned her head to catch Elphaba ogling her. The Munchkinlander turned a deep cucumber. Galinda rolled her eyes with a panted laugh.

"Seeing what a real woman looks like?" Galinda asked and Elphaba blanched. She thrust out the chemise. Galinda reached around herself and grabbed it, slipping it on before turning around. Elphaba didn't talk. She worked steadily, feeling Galinda's eyes glance at her now and then, but the Princess' looking never ventured into touching.

Elphaba finished placing Galinda's scarf and attaching her hair jewels when Milla rammed through the door.

"It's just too awful for words!" she shrieked.

"What? What is it?" Galinda asked.

"I just heard from Shenshen that Lady Dayblwell of Tenniken has arrived, but her carriage was raided by those dark fairies when she passed through the Great Forest.

"Those malevolent creatures!" Galinda said shivering.

"They've stolen her trunks of gold and her lunch basket," Milla added.

"I don't know how anyone can stand to go into that forest with all those evil sprites. They ought to burn the whole forest down!" Galinda said.

"King Upland decided to send a company of soldiers and a priest into the forest tonight to see if they can't find where the fairies went," Milla said.

Elphaba lost her breath. Gillikinese soldiers searching the Great Gillikin Forest?! What if they found the cottage? How terrified her sister would be seeing the Gillikinese army. Their iron armor. Shiny lances. Spiked war hammers. What would they do to Nessa if they found her?! Elphaba's blood tish-tished in her head. She had to find Shell after the ball. They would have to go to Nessa at once.

The ball seemed to never end. Elphaba waited in Galinda's room late into the evening. How long could they dance? By now, the Princess must have worn through the soles of her heels. Elphaba thought of Prince Fiyero. Would Galinda dance with him? What would they talk about? Would he mention that he had met Elphaba? Her mind flickered back to Nessa. Elphaba could see the guards dragging her sister's jerking body across the mud, tossing the rope over a high tree branch, noosing it around Nessa's neck, before they hoisted her for the birds to gorge on. Oz be damned! Elphaba paced. The candles in Galinda's room grew shorter and shorter.

When Galinda finally entered, she teetered and tottered, walking in a zig-zag toward her. Closing the distance between them, Galinda placed her hands on Elphaba's shoulders. Elphaba winced. Not tonight! She couldn't play Galinda's games now! She wouldn't allow it! Nessa's life was at stake! They might have already found her with as long as Elphaba had waited.

"He lufs me," Galinda slurred, the sweet scent of ale lacing her breath. "Kisses, kisses, blue feather kisses," she mumbled, her forehead falling against Elphaba's chest. Elphaba stiffened. The scent of the Princess' sweat and her flowered locks filled her nostrils.

"Very good, Your Royal Highness. Now, may I ready Your Royal Highness for bed?" Elphaba asked, trying to hurry the Princess along.

Galinda nodded against Elphaba's chest. The Munchkinlander sighed. How was she going to do this if Galinda wouldn't stand. Elphaba shook Galinda's shoulders but there was no response. She pulled Galinda away from her. Sweet Lurline! The Princess had passed out! How was going to change her clothes now?

She couldn't waste time trying to wake her. Instead she grabbed the Princess around her torso and carried her toward the bed. Flinging her on it, Elphaba climbed on top and started undressing Galinda— gloves, jewels, dress, petticoat, kirtle, corset. Finally, Galinda was in her sleeveless chemise, Elphaba grabbed the fabric and was going to whoosh it off of the Princess, when she felt a pulse in her stomach. She blushed and released the garment. If she removed the Princess' chemise, Elphaba would see all of Galinda. The front of Galinda, right beneath her finger tips. Her heart was pumping hard in her chest. She remembered Galinda's backside. Her soft and gentle curves. Elphaba shook her head. She didn't want to think about it. She didn't want to think about Galinda's body at all. She pulled down the sheets and maneuvered the Princess in her chemise underneath them. She placed Galinda's dress in her wardrobe and ornaments on her vanity table, and raced to the door when Galinda whispered out sleepily,

"Late tomorrow...want...to sleep in."

"Yes, Your Royal Highness," Elphaba said and flew out.

Running outside, the wind whipped around the Munchkinlander and she wondered how she would brave the winter in her flimsy garment. Finding the outside servants' quarters, she asked for Shell. When he came out, she told him the news, falling over her syllables. Grabbing a scythe, he raced with her into the Forest. After several hours, they made their way to the cabin. From the back it was perfectly dark. Was Nessa sleeping? Had the soldiers missed the cottage? The forest was silent. Elphaba glanced at her brother in the moonlight. He nodded. They crept toward the front. As they approached, Elphaba saw it—a footman's helmet resting against the cottage door.

She gasped and yelled,

"Nessa—"

But before Elphaba could finish, a meaty hand covered her mouth and a strong arm circled her belly. She squirmed, trying to wrest free of her attacker's grip, but the man only held her tighter. From her periphery, she saw two men wrestling with Shell. One held him, covering his mouth, while another removed his scythe and threw it into the woods. Her attacker squeezed her waist tighter and tighter. A pain shot through her, making her want to vomit. She thought she would pass out when the attackers dragged the siblings into the dark cabin and closed the door.

They were done for! Sweat trickled down Elphaba's neck as her eyes adjusted to the dark. The soldiers must have already killed Nessarose and now they were going to kill them. Had it all come to this? They had escaped Munchkinland only to be murdered in the very cabin they had run to for safety?!

"They're still out there," her captor whispered, holding Elphaba still.

Who were they talking about? What were the men waiting for? Elphaba looked over and saw her brother still fighting.

"Stop moving, boy, or I'll snap your legs," his attacker hissed.

Wait! Their style of speech. He was a Munchkinlander—a peasant, but a Munchkinlander nonetheless! Elphaba's head swirled. Why had Munchkinlanders captured them? And what had they done to Nessa? Elphaba screamed against her captor's hand **.**

"Elphaba, Shell, is that you?" Nessarose's voice whispered in the dark.

"Silence!" Shell's captor hissed.

Nessa was still alive! Elphaba eyes searched the gray shadows as she tried to muffle a reply back. She realized there were more than just the five of them in the cottage. There were several Ozians standing against the wall. She wriggled feverishly.

"Quit your squirming, or by the Unnamed God, I'll give you a good thrashing. Woman, or no woman!" Her captor whispered, his hot breath coiling in her ear.

Elphaba's dress was soaked with a clammy sweat. Her attacker's moist chunky hand bumped against her nose, blocking her breath for bursts at a time. The siblings waited that way in the dark for an hour, until a willowy silhouette stepped forward from the wall. The woman was a head shorter than Elphaba, her light-colored hair loosely braided, the outlines of her high cheekbones and narrow eyes barely visible.

"I think they've gone," she said in a crisp peasant voice. "And who might you be?" she asked the siblings. The captors removed their hands from their mouths, still gripping the siblings' shoulders and waists.

"Shell Thropp," her brother said.

"Elphaba Thropp, sister to—"

"Lurline's teats! Have we the whole royal Thropp family here?" the woman asked. "Why have you come?"

"You've trespassed into _our_ cabin! You will release us and then tell us why _you_ are here!" Shell said.

"Ha! The isn't Munchkinland, my dear boy. We answer to no one, especially not to the royal family," the woman said.

"Please, just tell us what you've done to Nessa," Elphaba said.

"Elphaba, I'm all right. They've eaten some food and touched the tableware, but nothing that several washings won't right," Nessa called out.

"Silence, you wretched clot-pole," the woman said.

"Please, Pfannee, let them go," a man's voice said. He came forward out of the shadows. Boq!

The young Munchkinlander hadn't changed much. His wool toque a littler dirtier, his shirt and breeches a little thinner, his reddish-brown hair a little longer, but his short frame as sturdy and upright as ever.

"Who are these rogues, Boq?" Elphaba asked.

"In Munchkinland, you called us the Weavers," the woman answered.

Elphaba's eyes widened. The Weavers were vagabond Munchkin serfs who escaped their landlords. They would "weave" in and out of Munchkinland, reaping where they had not sown. Known among royalty and nobility as dangerous criminals.

"The Gillikinese call us _dark fairies_ ," Pfannee said.

Elphaba snorted. So this is who haunted The Great Gillikin Forest, a band of traveling thieves!

"Unhand us right now and show me my sister," Elphaba demanded.

"You are not in the position to make demands," said the woman.

Elphaba looked at her brother. Shell winked. Elphaba shrieked at the top of her lungs, disarming the men, and slammed her heel into the Weaver's shin behind her, scraping it downward.

"Pig-wench!" he screamed.

Shell raised his elbow and rammed it behind him, catching his captor's eye, before turning and kicking him in his shin. The Weaver squealed in pain and fell to his knees.

Elphaba's captor held onto her and pulled her down. A pain shot through her knees as they bit the floor. Hunching behind her, with one hand, her captor squeezed her neck and, with the other hand, he gripped her stomach and pressed her body into his.

Shell was about to kick his wounded captor when Pfannee yelled,

"Kick him again and your sister is dead,"

Pfannee had drawn a sword and held it to Elphaba's throat.

"Stop, everyone! STOP!" Boq squealed, standing on the kitchen table. "We're Munchkinlanders! Munchkinlanders who just escaped the Gillikinese army— _again_. We should be celebrating, not murdering one another."

"We've nothing in common with these thieves!" Pfannee said.

"Thieves! It's you, the Weavers, who steal from other people's lands!" Shell said.

"It was the royal Thropp family and the Munchkin lords who forced us to work the lands, then stole what we made! You rendered to your serfs meager scraps; many of us starved. We took back only what you stole from us—the work of our hands. We will be slaves to no Eminent or Lord again," Pfannee said, moving her sword to Shell's throat, pushing it against him until a trickle of blood danced below her weapon.

Watching her brother's nervous eyes, Elphaba's heart fell off its beat. In an instant, she saw dozens of arguments, laughter, and secrets she shared with Shell. She remembered how lost he looked when he packed their trunk with mostly Nessa and her things, the sound of the Gillikinese war drums drawing nearer. How determined he was as he hoisted that trunk on his back, sweat pouring down his face as they walked, and walked, and walked. He never once complained. She could lose him. Her siblings were the only Ozians left who made her dark existence bearable. And tonight they were going to be severed from her.

"There is no royal family here—only servants," Elphaba whispered.

"What are you saying?" Pfannee asked.

"Since the fall of Munchkinland, I've worked as a lady's maid for the Princess of Gillikin," Elphaba said.

"So you have a tiny taste of what it's like to have a master? Am I to pity you? You've basked in riches all of your life and have been forced to work less than a season. As a royal servant no less. We've never known rest, not a day in our lives. We're hardly the same," Pfannee said.

"Please!" Boq said. "Please, let them go. Let us agree to end our grievances, if just for tonight."

Pfannee glared at Elphaba. The kneeling Munchkinlander raised her chin.

"Please, Pfannee," Boq pleaded

"Fine," Pfannee said and stuck out her arm, "Because Boq is a dear friend of ours. Let us call a truce for tonight. It's almost over anyway."

Elphaba eyes didn't leave the sword Pfannee still held in her hand. Pfannee lowered her weapon.

"Let her up," Pfannee said and Elphaba's attacker released her.

Elphaba grabbed Pfannee's thin but muscular forearm and pulled herself up and then shook it. The weaver's grip was firm, but not forceful.

"Now where's Nessa?" Elphaba asked.

"In the corner," Pfannee said and Shell and Elphaba rushed to her.

Nessa was hunched by the stairwell. Elphaba kneeled to check her sister for broken bones or cuts in the moonlight.

"Come on, Weavers. Into the woods and onto the air!" Pfannee said and the Weavers one by one walked outside until only Pfannee, Boq and the Thropps remained.

"And you're welcome, Elphaba Thropp," Pfannee said.

"For what? You holding us against our will and eating our food?"

The Weaver scoffed.

"No, you, flap-mouthed canker-blossom. We saved your sister's life," she said and disappeared out the door.

Elphaba looked at Boq.

"What's she talking about?"

"It's true," he said. "I had come to check on Nessa tonight and bring her some food. We were eating supper when a group of soldiers banged on the door. They told us to come out and show ourselves. I didn't want them to see Nessa so we left the door closed. They charged us with disobeying the King and said they would bash the door down and take us out and hang us. They might have killed us, if the Weavers hadn't killed them first."

Elphaba turned to Nessa,

"Is this true?"

"I suppose the bandits did protect us," Nessa said crawling toward the staircase.

Elphaba exhaled, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. And how had she and Shell thanked them? With punches, gouges, and kicks.

"They should have told us," Shell said, "We wouldn't have fought them."

"They didn't know who you were and they didn't want to risk soldiers hearing them," Boq said.

"How do you know them?" Elphaba asked.

"They've been helping Munchkinlanders in the forest set up tree houses so they can't be found by Gillikinese travelers or soldiers. They've also helped many Munchkin immigrants forage and plant food."

"But they're criminals," Shell said.

Boq shrugged.

"They have been good to Nessa and I. In times like these, one can't be picky about one's friends," he said.

After a few hours, visiting with Nessa and Boq, Shell and Elphaba were racing back to the castle. The sun rose over the hills.

When they were about to part ways, Shell asked,

"Do you think Nessa will be okay in the forest with those Weavers?"

"If it is as Boq says, she might be safer with them. Take care, Shell. Until our next trip to see Nessa," Elphaba said and turned to run.

"Wait!"

"What?" Elphaba asked, looking over her shoulder, eager to get back to the castle.

"How is she?"

"She?"

"The Princess? Is she as lovely as ever?" Shell asked, wetting his lips. "Has she asked about me?"

Elphaba held in a groan. Was her brother still obsessed with Galinda?

"Shell, you must forget her," she said.

He leaned on the balls of his feet and said,

"Elphaba, please, just tell me how she is!"

"She's as self-absorbed as ever—"

"Elphaba!"

"She's fine! Perhaps even lovely, but, even then, you're worth a dozen of her!" she said.

At her brother's dumb-founded expression, she snorted. "Oh, not to me, you idiot! Not to me," she said and rushed away to the castle.

Creeping up the servants' stairs unnoticed, she washed the bottom of her dress and fixed her braids, before Nanny knocked on her door.

"Elphaba, there's a change of schedule today," the old woman said.

"Yes, the Princess told me" Elphaba said, turning to face Nanny in her doorway. "No, not the Princess," the old woman said. "King Upland wants you readied and out by the stables. He wants to see your archery before the festival. I'll dress the Princess this morning."

Elphaba felt herself pale before she nodded and headed to the stables. She had hoped she would be able to practice a bit on her own, before she had to show the King.

Approaching the stables, there were flags of Gillikin flying everywhere. Except somehow the shape of Gillikin had changed. Elphaba stopped mid-stride, her breath catching. Gillikin was drawn to incorporate its new territory. In thick yellow thread, "Gillikin," was sewn over Munchkinland. Her fists clenched. She thought she had snuffed it out. Any hope that they might return. But seeing her homeland disappeared from the flag was like the noonday sun had iced over. The ground spun beneath her. They were stuck here. Stuck here forever. She buried her face in her hands.

"Elphaba, are you all right?"

The Munchkinlander looked up. Fiyero stood beside her, a wrinkle in his brow, his hand coming to her shoulder.

"It's gone, gone, all gone," she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut. His pulled her close and she fell against his chest. He hugged her tight.

"It's going to be okay," he whispered, his warm palm caressing her neck. "Everything will be all right."

Ahem!

A man cleared his throat. Fiyero released Elphaba. She looked up to see King Upland and Galinda before them — the Princess' round eyes seething.

* * *

 **A/N:** Thanks for reading this chapter. I hope it was enjoyable even though it was light on the sex. More spice to come in the next chapter. As always, I look forward to hearing your thoughts, questions, and comments.


	6. Chapter 6

Wearing a chipper smile, Galinda sat with her hands in her lap, watching the practice game in the stands, next to her father and Fiyero. Inside, however, she bubbled with anger at the memory of her lady's maid in the arms of the Prince—a whispering, cuddling, coddling Prince. A heat had flown into her chest at the sight, a bitter taste rising on her tongue. Fiyero said he had caught Elphaba, that she almost collapsed. But, his touch communicated more than mere concern. It was laced with affection. He had massaged Elphaba's bare nape with her face nestled against his chest. Her lady's maid looked comfortable with him, quite comfortable, as if they had met before. Galinda wanted to pull Elphaba away, lock her in her room, and forbid her from seeing the Prince _ever again_. It wasn't reasonable.

She wasn't in love with Fiyero. He was amusing, an adept dancer, and a skilled kisser. Galinda had enjoyed the many soft kisses he planted in the palm of her hand, the ones that crept up her arm and landed on her cheek, as they sat in a dark hallway, at the end of last night's ball. She even enjoyed the way he cavalierly mocked traditions, traditions that had become confining to Galinda of late. But, she did not love him. Love, she assumed, was much more solid; it was the difference between honey and water. Fiyero, while refreshing, was far from addictive. So why this burning, this heat in her chest and pain behind her eyes? If she wasn't jealous of Fiyero, did that mean she was jealous of Elphaba? But that was absurd! She didn't even have a pinch of fondness for her. She despised her, didn't she?

Galinda stared at Elphaba's determined form as her lady's maid sank her arrows into each of her hay targets on the field. She shivered. Recently Elphaba had been different. Her lady's maid, who clearly disliked her as much as Galinda hated her, had pretended not to see the bruises on her neck. No. More than that. Elphaba had spared her from disgrace. There was no other explanation for how she handled Milla before the ball. Was Elphaba's behavior a ploy to ingratiate her toward her, to get Galinda to warm to her? Well, she wouldn't be so easily manipulated! She was the Princess of Gillikin! She could hate whomever she wanted for as long as she wanted for Oz's sake!

The King clapped three times and the field was changed out. The archers and her lady's maid left. Swordsmen entered, followed by their squires carrying sacks of two-handed swords, knives, and shields. As the swordsmen ducked, dodged, and parried, the Princess imagined Elphaba tangled under the white sheets of Fiyero's guest bed. Galinda's smile was breaking apart; soon her emotions would be written all over her face. She had to get away. Leaning over, she asked to be excused. Her father agreed but told her to be ready to greet Sir Chuffrey and his guests for an early supper. She nodded. Raising her dress, she walked off of the wooden platform, back to the castle. When she received Sir Chuffrey's letter a couple months back saying he would visit her, she had been nervous, giddy, elated **.** But now she could rally none of those emotions to drown out her vexation. What she needed was a nice hot bath— a nice hot bath— with her lady's maid.

Walking back to the castle and entering her bedroom Galinda summoned Elphaba. When her maid arrived, she ordered,

"Prepare the bath."

Elphaba went stiff, not moving for a long moment, before she croaked, "Yes, Your Royal Highness."

Galinda smiled, making Elphaba wait in front of her for a couple of minutes, before she said, "You're dismissed."

When the princess entered the tiled room, her gangly maid stood tucked in the corner by the oils and perfumes, her hands in front of her apron, her eyes tracing her feet.

"Am I to get in like this?" Galinda asked, still in her dress and heels.

Elphaba looked up, swallowing.

"No, Your Royal Highness."

"Then, hurry and undress me," Galinda said and her lady's maid made her way over, cringing at the large body of water in the middle of the room. Watching Elphaba undress her, she wanted to slap her, shake her, belt her, yes, belt the truth out of her! Did the Prince care for Elphaba? Did the creature have feelings for him? Had they kissed? But any one of those questions would make her look weak, feeble, like she was envious. She would just have to get the answers out of Elphaba a subtler way.

Elphaba was removing Galinda's petticoat when the Princess asked,

"Whatever was the matter with you that you fainted into the arms of the Prince?"

Elphaba paused for an instant before she continued, and said,

"I must have been a little tired, Your Royal Highness."

"A little tired?" Galinda asked, "And Prince Fiyero's arms were the best place to nap?"

"I didn't know His Royal Highness would be there," Elphaba said, walking the Princess' petticoat to the hooks by the linen panels.

"But you did know him?" Galinda asked.

Her lady's maid turned and glanced into Galinda's eyes, before she said,

"We met once before, Your Royal Highness."

So they _had_ met!

As Elphaba approached her, Galinda asked,

"When were you introduced?"

"When the King asked me to be His Majesty's archer," Elphaba said, unlacing Galinda's corset.

"And so you thought, you would continue to bother him with your presence by feigning illness and getting him to take care of you?"

Elphaba, unhooking Galinda's leather garment, stilled.

"If I could have prevented it, I would have never let anyone see me that way, Your Royal Highness. I have no reason to think that a _servant_ who exposes faintness of spirit would ever be cared for by Gillikinese royalty or their guests," she said and went to place the corset on a hook and grab a white towel.

"Do you mean to say you are _more_ to the Prince than just a servant?" Galinda asked.

Elphaba sighed. Walking back with the towel, she said,

"Your Royal Highness would have to ask Prince Fiyero what I mean to him."

"If—," Galinda said and placed a finger at the neck of Elphaba's dress, pinning her to her spot.

Elphaba gulped.

"—you disgraced the castle, in any way, with your behavior toward Prince Fiyero," Galinda said and slid her finger in a lazy zig-zag along Elphaba's collarbone "you will be very— _very_ —sorry you did." Galinda's nails raked against Elphaba's chest and her lady's maid inhaled sharply.

"Please," Elphaba whispered. "I am sure His Royal Highness was merely being gentlemanly."

"You gave him no cause to believe anything more would be welcome?" Galinda asked, resting her palm against Elphaba's chest, feeling the Munchkinlander's heart beat rapidly against her hand.

"No," Elphaba said, staring at the tile floor. "I promise there is nothing between us."

Was there a chance Elphaba was being truthful? That she didn't have feelings for the Prince. That they hadn't had a sweet exchange?

"It seems the Prince is taken with Your Royal Highness," Elphaba added.

Galinda smiled. So Elphaba hadn't thought Galinda had feelings for her. That was a relief. But, Galinda in no way wanted Elphaba thinking she was jealous of Fiyero either. Only the unperfect experienced jealously and she was Princess Galinda Upland, flawless in every way.

"I hope you're wrong," the Princess said and Elphaba's gaze rose. "Prince Fiyero will be sorely disappointed if he had hopes of courtship. Sir Chuffrey, my betrothed, is coming tonight to visit for the Harvest Festival and he is a man far superior to the Prince."

Galinda turned around and slipped her chemise over her pale shoulders and tossed it behind her for Elphaba to hang.

Turning back around, she saw Elphaba set her garment on a hook and then turn toward her. Walking back, her lady's maid looked up and staggered. Elphaba surveyed Galinda's naked form, her eyes sticking to certain unmentionable places before the color of her cheeks deepened to near black. Galinda smirked, crossing her arms. Elphaba kept her neck unnaturally stiff as she fixed her eyes on the Princess' face.

If Elphaba could barely keep her composure seeing her undressed, what would she do in the bath? Galinda could make Elphaba get in, watch her flounder about, covered in her liquid aphrodisiac, coming against her will over and over. Galinda could slid her fingers into Elphaba's chapel of ease. She could make her lady's maid bob on them until they pruned.

"Last time, you didn't quite make it to bathing me," Galinda said.

Elphaba's jaw tightened.

"Most servants enter the water to their knees and sit on the fifth stair to wash me."

Elphaba quivered. Galinda noticed her grab at her dress like she always did when nervous. With one shove, Elphaba would be drenched.

 _Your Royal Highness is beautiful. No different than every other morning._

Of all times to remember Elphaba's damned kindness! Galinda felt a stab of guilt and bit her lip.

"But—" she said, "seeing as you have that water prejudice, I think it would be best if you just sat on the top stair above the water and hand me what I need as I call for it. Can you do that, creature?"

Elphaba nodded.

"I can!" she said, straightening, a shy smile forming.

"Then get on with it," Galinda said, taking the towel from Elphaba's hand, "Bring me my clay and mint oil!"

An hour after Galinda's bath, Elphaba had dressed her in her most elegant rose-colored gown and a lovely white silk scarf to hide her greenish-purple bruises. Galinda surveyed herself in the mirror, her hair pinned up with diamonds and purple sage buds; her face was freshly powdered; her lips glossed with melted bees wax; her cheeks adored with the red dust of crushed angelica. She looked like the portrait of her mother. Would Sir Chuffrey find her as enchanting as everyone had found the Queen? Would he delight in her company? Now that Galinda was 19, would Sir Chuffrey, at 35, find her grown up? Or would Galinda still seem a child? Or worse yet, would she appear too worn for his liking? Most Gillikinese women married at 16 and Galinda was three whole years past her prime. What did her darling look like now? Would he be even more handsome? She had waited for this day since the war began and her excitement at seeing her husband-to-be was almost enough to make her forget Elphaba in Fiyero's embrace— _almost_.

Galinda glanced at her lady's maid in the mirror. Elphaba, stood behind her, her eyes concentrating on a speck on the stone floor. What was that green creature thinking? Was she thinking of _him_? Oh, why, did Galinda care? Prince Fiyero could ruin the virtue of any woman he wanted. Elphaba was nothing to her. Nothing but an ugly vegetable whom she wanted dismissed. Galinda's eyes trailed over Elphaba's body. What would she do if she couldn't touch that soft emerald skin again? If she couldn't hear Elphaba's passionate screams? If she couldn't feel her bucking beneath her legs, Elphaba's hot maidenhead soaking her hand, her sheets? Galinda hemmed, touching her scarved throat.

It was time to put such childish thoughts out of her mind — she was meeting her betrothed!

Galinda left her bedroom and entered the Orange Smoking Room where Sir Chuffrey stood, in his military uniform, passionately talking to her father, Prince Fiyero, and the Prince's adviser. Sir Chuffrey's assertive gait, his broad shoulders erect like a buck, his muscular legs hoisting him inches above the other males, befit him as High Constable of the Gillikinese army of Paltos. The Paltos army was both a source of pride for Runcible Castle and a site of constant distress. More than once, Paltos was rumored to have plans to overthrow King Upland. Galinda knew that as Princess of Gillikin she could have been promised to someone of much higher-ranking nobility, but her betrothal to Sir Chuffrey was necessary to secure the peace of Gillikin.

Seeing Sir Chuffrey's corn-colored hair combed back to reveal his sculptured forehead, the plump rims of his lips, his focused silver-blue eyes, his solid chest, Galinda felt as if she were twelve again. How easily one slips back into the uncertainty of youth.

"Good evening, Sir Chuffrey," Galinda ventured and Sir Chuffrey's deep-set eyes flew to her, widening before they narrowed. He looked Galinda up and down and stared at her bared bosom with a furrowed brow.

"Is this my darling betrothed, my dearest Galinda?" Sir Chuffrey asked, smelling of soap, myrrh, and tobacco.

Galinda nodded and saw Fiyero smile at her.

"My little girl has grown," King Upland said. "Is she not a paragon of beauty?"

"Indeed. However, I don't understand why she's _here_?" Sir Chuffrey said, his hand swiping through his blonde locks as he wet his lips.

"Here?" King Upland asked.

"In the Smoking Room," Sir Chuffrey clarified as if it was obvious, "In Paltos, women aren't allowed in men's cabinets. Who knows what devilish things may come flying from our mouths and offend a lady's ear."

Galinda, eager to secure Sir Chuffrey's approval, said,

"I can't imagine anything you could say would ever offend—"

"How I forget the laxities of Mount Runcible," Sir Chuffrey said, interrupting her, "Where women wander wherever they want and speak whenever they please."

Galinda flushed, her neck and face red with embarrassment. Fiyero coughed his disapproval and Sir Chuffrey turned to glare at him, daring him to speak. But Fiyero only looked elsewhere.

"Our customs are different," King Upland said, "but perhaps after your marriage to my daughter, she will better learn your ways."

"I should hope. For as the proverb says: even dogs can be trained to hold their bark," Sir Chuffrey said and Galinda grimaced.

Were her words of no more value to her betrothed than the cry of an animal? While even more handsome than she remembered, she felt small and stupid in the High Constables' presence. She would just have to try harder to win his favor!

"Shall we go into the banquet room, and speak on things proper to men and women alike?" Sir Chuffrey asked.

"A fine idea!" King Upland said.

They sat with King Upland at the head, to his right was his adviser, to his left was Sir Chuffrey. Galinda sat next to her father's adviser, across from Prince Fiyero. Other Gillikinese ladies and lords filled the rest of the table. As slices of ham, plates of pheasant, blocks of cheese and cinnamon poached pears were brought forth, Galinda wished Milla was with her, but her cousin had asked for supper in her room. She needed time to rest from the slew of elaborate fall banquets.

Galinda ate in silence as Sir Chuffrey talked mostly of his new businesses in Paltos. She had little knowledge or interest in such conversations, nor was her opinion ever solicited. Sighing, she looked up and caught Fiyero gazing at her. Was he wearing a smirk? Had he noticed her boredom? His eyes gestured to Sir Chuffrey and then rolled. Certainly he didn't expect Galinda to join him in mocking her husband-to-be, did he? She had better manners than that.

While she couldn't keep up with Sir Chuffrey's conversations, it didn't mean he wasn't worthy of respect. In fact it was the Paltos army, and Sir Chuffrey at the helm, that succeeded in defeating Munchkinland, that razed the Munchkin Palace, and hoisted the Gillikin flag above it. And if military victory alone wasn't enough, Sir Chuffrey's family was exceedingly wealthy and respected. He was surely more learned and astute than this uncouth Winkie Prince. And then there were Sir Chuffrey's strikingly chiseled features and virile form. Thinking of his strong jawline, his splash of sand colored freckles, and his prickle of blonde stubble along his face, Galinda knew her betrothed, while not a prince, would still give her beautiful strapping children. She turned away from Fiyero, raising her nose and pretending to be interested in Sir Chuffrey's monologue as he said,

"Idleness is the general leprosy of our piping, potting, feasting masses who misspend their time in excess and debauchery. It is only through hard work and enforced diligence that they will ever rise above being lusty, hot-headed, and disorderly beasts."

Finishing his statement, Sir Chuffrey wiped the corners of his mouth as a hooded Elphaba was brought into the banquet hall for entertainment.

"What do you say to the Unionist injunction to honor and care for the lower stations, the poorest of them especially?" Fiyero asked.

"I prefer reason to Unionist doctrine," Sir Chuffrey said.

Elphaba sang softly in the background.

"So you don't believe in the Unnamed God?" Fiyero asked.

"Unionist traditions and the Unnamed God are not one in the same," the High Constable said, wagging his finger, "I don't believe in the dicta of the Unionist Church telling me to give the riches that I earned through the sweat of my brow, responsible character, and victorious conquests to the lazy, stupid and indigent to be squandered. As a steward of the riches of the Unnamed God, it would be a misuse of his graces. Rather than abiding by the old religious traditions, we ought to use reason and strength to increase our wealth and the Unnamed God's favor."

"Aren't the lower stations, known for their generosity, good nature, and long-suffering? Don't they provide us with the opportunity to practice piety and charity through almsgiving?" Fiyero asked.

"The poor pauperize themselves through drunkenness, impiety, idleness, extravagance, and immorality. Almsgiving would only reinforce such bad habits. Feminine sympathies do them more harm than good," Sir Chuffrey said sucking on a pheasant bone.

"You may be right," King Upland said.

"Of course I am, Your Majesty," Sir Chuffrey said, "Now that we've conquered Munchkinland, we can auction the land off to wealthy Gillikinese noblemen. Before they farm the land, we'll have the surplus of Munchkin serfs clear the poisons."

"And, if any of them should die from such work?" Fiyero asked.

"Then, we will only have lost a Munchkin and not a man," Sir Chuffrey said and Elphaba's voice stuttered.

Had that stupid creature forgotten the words to the Gillikinese anthem she was singing? Galinda glanced at the hooded singer, standing at the corner of the table between King Upland and Sir Chuffrey. Elphaba continued the song from where she left off.

"Do you honestly think that the Gillikinese are inherently superior to Munchkinlanders?" Fiyero asked the High Constable.

"Certainly you can't deny what's before your very eyes?" Sir Chuffrey said. "If Munchkinlanders had been our equals or our betters, they would have joined us in an alliance or even won the war, but they had no political strategy and were easily out-witted in battle. Even before the war began, the Munchkin royal family couldn't control their own serfs. There were constant uprisings. Munchkin royalty was as dimwitted and as ugly as the rest of their people, a people of no talents and no intelligence," Sir Chuffrey said.

"No intelligence?" Fiyero asked.

"None whatsoever," Sir Chuffrey said.

"Why don't we test your thesis? For the singer entertaining us tonight is none other than Munchkin royalty herself. Shall we ask her what she thinks of our conversation?" Fiyero asked.

Galinda's eyebrows shot up. Elphaba stopped singing. King Upland cleared his throat and then grabbed his goblet to wash down his food. What a horribly contentious man Fiyero was turning out to be! Have a servant talk in the Banquet Hall?! And not just talk, but contradict Sir Chuffrey?! Could there be a more ill-mannered suggestion? Sir Chuffrey had no reason to entertain this proposition.

The High Constable wiped his mouth and, snorting a laugh, pushed away from the table, and rose to his feet.

"Please don't leave Sir Chuff—" King Upland started to say.

"Shall we indulge the Winkie?" Sir Chuffrey said and with a swipe, ripped the sack off of Elphaba's head.

He gasped with surprise and took a step back. Fiyero smirked. Elphaba kept her gaze down, her hands clutching her dress.

"I mean you no offense by my presence, sir," the Munchkinlander said.

The table waited in silence for a whole beat, all eyes on Sir Chuffrey. The High Constable erupted with laughter, the tops of his shoulders fluttering with each chortle. Galinda exhaled.

"Her face alone corroborates my word. Have we not found the most foul, the most misshapen creature in all of Oz?" Sir Chuffrey asked and Elphaba stiffened, "But, if _Prince Fiyero_ thinks this beast's opinion is so important, shall we all not indulge him and let it speak? Speak, you beastly woman, enlighten us with your beliefs!" he barked.

"I would not know what to say, sir," Elphaba said, still looking down.

"Here you have it. The epitome of idiocy—a Munkinlander!" Sir Chuffrey said.

"Elphaba, just tell us your opinions on the poor," Fiyero said and Elphaba glanced at him with obvious irritation.

"So you even know the creature's name?" Sir Chuffrey asked. Fiyero kept silent. "Yes, ghoulish _Elphaba_ ," Sir Chuffrey continued, "tell us your thoughts on the poor. Are they lazy idle creatures or are they noble wretches sent to us by the Unnamed God?"

Elphaba didn't move.

"Speak!" he yelled, his spit landing on her cheek.

Elphaba raised her gaze until she stared directly at Sir Chuffrey. The High Constable scowled. Galinda's stomach knotted at the tension. Elphaba, steadying her breathing, said,

"To frame the poor as noble wretches is to deny them their full humanity, the part that gets incensed, that grieves, that hates. And, it is pure condescension to frame their misfortunate as an opportunity for our spiritual betterment."

"Ha! So the beast disagrees with you, Fiyero. So much for gratitude, eh?" Sir Chuffrey said to the frowning Winkie.

"But—" Elphaba continued and Sir Chuffrey's head snapped back to her, "to say that the poor are evil and idle is to deaden our _own_ humanity, justifying our privileges, defending our mistreatment of them, and making peace with their suffering, sir."

Elphaba had outsmarted them both. Sir Chuffrey eyes bounced around the banquet table. Fiyero grinned from ear to ear. Galinda tried to mask her awe of Elphaba's elegant response, with an expression of impassivity, but Sir Chuffrey's jaw trembled with rage.

Her lady's maid had stepped out of line. She had made Sir Chuffrey look foolish. She spoke impertinently to a Gillikinese man. Galinda should have felt only anger, but she couldn't quite extinguish her admiration. She had never seen a woman talk like that in the company of men, so confidently, so smartly.

"And _who_ exactly are you?" Sir Chuffrey asked the Munchkinlander.

"Elphaba Thropp, sir."

"Spawn of Frexpar—Frexpar the Godly?"

"Yes, sir," Elphaba said evenly.

The High Constable snickered and turned back to the royal table.

"Do you know how we found him? Do you know how we found Frexpar, Interim Eminent of all Munchkinland, when we raided the castle?"

Elphaba's eyes widened.

"Don't!" Fiyero said.

"With his own knife sticking out of his heart! The coward killed himself rather than defend his country and family! He had no patriotism, no honor! He was a worm and no man! A worm soaking in his own blood." Sir Chuffrey turned to Elphaba and said, "We chopped off his head and stuck it on a flag pole outside the palace and the rest of his naked body we fed to the pigs."

Elphaba's face went a pale pea-green. She bent over as if she'd been kicked in the stomach, her hand cupping her mouth.

It was a cowardly move. A disgusting thing to say. Sir Chuffrey had meant to shame Elphaba with her father's suicide but he only showed how threatened he felt by her. Too ashamed to look at the High Constable, Galinda's sapphire eyes clung to her fingers as her father dismissed Elphaba from the dinner table.

Sir Chuffrey sat back down and said,

"My darling Galinda, you look upset."

"It's just this talk of death—"

"My apologies, my darling. You should never have had to hear of the war at all. Munchkinlanders bring out the worst in civilized conversation," he said and then glaring at Fiyero added, "Let us end all talk about Munchkinland this evening."

"Here, here," King Upland said, raising his goblet.

Galinda smiled and nodded in response. It wasn't Sir Chuffrey's fault. He wasn't really cruel. He had been provoked! If only Fiyero didn't try to make Sir Chuffrey look like a dullard in front of everyone, the High Constable would have never lashed out. But try as she might, for the rest of the evening, Galinda couldn't rid her mind of the image of pigs gobbling bloody flesh.

When Galinda entered her bedroom, Elphaba was behind on her evening chores, still readying her room, without any of her normal speedy efficiency. Instead her drooping body seemed to drift at a cloud-like pace. Normally, Galinda would have berated Elphaba for her dilly-dallying, but Sir Chuffrey's outburst made Galinda feel rather magnanimous this evening. She simply sat in silence at her vanity until Elphaba finished.

"May I ready Your Royal Highness for bed?" Elphaba asked, after she closed Galinda's curtains, her eyelids puffy.

It was about time. Her lady's maid could have at least thanked Galinda for being so patient. Sighing, the Princess rose and said,

"Yes, I should like to get to bed before the sun rises."

Staring at the floor, Elphaba showed no signs of hearing her. That damn Munchkinlander was trying the limits of her good will!

"Yes, creature, yes!" Galinda repeated herself and Elphaba floated into motion and removed her hair jewels, her gloves, then her outer clothing.

All the while, Galinda thought of Elphaba's answer to Sir Chuffrey, until she finally managed to ask,

"How did you learn things like that?"

"Things like what, Your Royal Highness?" Elphaba asked in a hollow voice.

"Your ideas on the poor," Galinda clarified while stepping out of her petticoat.

On bended knee, Elphaba looked at Galinda, hesitating.

"Did you read that? Did a book tell you your answer?" Galinda asked, staring into her eyes.

Holding onto the Princess' garment, her lady's maid rose in silence.

"You may speak freely," the Princess said.

"I learned many things from reading," Elphaba said, looking at Galinda's petticoat between her fingers, before she added, "—but I learned of the poor by coming to Runcible Castle."

"Why of course. Why didn't I think of it before," Galinda said and Elphaba looking at her with curiosity. Galinda wasn't stupid. Of course she understood what Elphaba meant. "Runcible Castle employs quite a fair amount of commoners and while we acknowledge their full list of human vices such as anger and self-pity, we generously and selflessly lift them out of their wretched conditions by giving them food to eat, clothes to wear, and suitable employment." Galinda summarized.

Elphaba's eyebrows rose sharply. Had Galinda's answer surprised her lady's maid? Was Elphaba amazed by her quickness of wit? Galinda surprised herself sometimes. Here she was conversing with a lowly, deformed troll that had just embarrassed Sir Chuffrey. There were plenty of reasons to despise her lady's maid, but Galinda had found it in her heart to be kind to her! Perhaps she would have something to offer her husband-to-be after all. She could compliment his masculine rationality with her blossoming charity for the lesser Ozian-kind.

Galinda looked at Elphaba who finished with her tasks, stood before her waiting to be dismissed. Her mind flashed back to Elphaba in the arms of the Winkie Prince. A hot rod of pain pierced her. Galinda reached out and felt Elphaba's soft cheek with the back of finger. Her lady's maid head snapped up, her eyes dilating.

When had Galinda's longing for the lavender and cinnamon scent of Miss Clutch turned into a tolerance for green. A fondness even? Once she married Sir Chuffrey, would she have to give up these pleasures? What sort of pleasures were they anyway? What made her want to touch her lady's maid, if it wasn't to torture her and make her leave? Maybe it didn't matter? Was it so important how Galinda managed to amuse herself? No man would ever truly love the vegetable anyway, so what was wrong if Galinda played with her now and then. If the juices Elphaba left on the castle stool, Galinda's sheets, or her fingers were any proof, it was clear that the vegetable enjoyed it. Galinda slid her finger between Elphaba's lips. Elphaba held her breath. And surely there was more than one way to show _charity_. Galinda's other hand rose to caress Elphaba's ribs covered in a thin layer of skin and cloth. Her lady's maid released a whimper, her lips pursing.

Galinda stroked higher. Higher. Higher.

"Please, Your Royal Highness! Please! May I be dismissed?" Elphaba whispered against Galinda's fingers that were slipping between her lips.

The Princess stopped with one hand on Elphaba's mouth and the other hand cupping her petite breast. Only their heavy breaths could be heard. Feeling Elphaba's warm wet tongue on her fingertips and her stiffening teat in her palm, Galinda wanted her lady's maid bare before her. All she had to do was say the word. Splash her a little. But Galinda could wait for Elphaba. Wait for a better time, another night, tomorrow night even? For she was Princess Galinda the Kind. Galinda removed her hands.

"You may go," she said and Elphaba scurried out. The Princess went to bed and was overtaken by dreams of soft, lurching, leaking greenness.

The next morning, Galinda awoke early, eager to meet Sir Chuffrey and her father for breakfast after her morning prayers. Perhaps today would be the day she could impress her betrothed. As her lady's maid dressed her, Galinda's eyes stuck to a sliver of green neck visible above the collar of her servant's dress. She felt a shiver between her thighs. Her lady's maid excited her too, but it was a different kind of excitement than the one she felt with Sir Chuffrey. How it was different she couldn't quite say. Walking downstairs to the chapel, she wondered if she would enjoy Sir Chuffrey's touch as much as she enjoyed touching Elphaba.

After prayers, she came to the breakfast parlor to find Prince Fiyero and his advisor eating alone. Taking a seat, Galinda exchanged good mornings before she asked,

"Have you seen my father or Sir Chuffrey?"

"I believe they headed out to the gardens to discuss Gillikinese politics, something about the dark fairies," Fiyero said.

So her father and Sir Chuffrey hadn't waited for her? Did her husband even care to get to know her before their wedding? Hiding her disappointment with a wide smile, she kept a light conversation with Fiyero, asking him about the culinary practices of the Vinkus, anything to avoid talking about last night, the High Constable, or her lady's maid. When they finished their breakfast, Fiyero said he planned to spend his day reading and taking strolls around the grounds. Galinda, relieved she wouldn't have to entertain him, excused herself to leave for the rose gardens.

She came to the garden's major white pavilion hoping to catch the High Constable and her father, but found Shell Thropp instead.

"Good Morning, Your Royal Highness," the servant said and bowed low.

Galinda "mm-ed" a good morning, not in the mood to enter into a full-worded conversation with the servant.

"Your Royal Highness looks radiant this morning. Is all well?"

"Not quite," Galinda said, sitting down on a white wooden bench next to blooming hyssop plants. "I had planned to spend the morning with our guest Sir Chuffrey, but it appears he has went walking this morning without me," she admitted.

"I can't imagine how any man could bear to leave your side," Shell said. Galinda's lips parted in mild surprise. She had forgotten how brazen—and just how enamored the servant was with her.

"I don't mean to be presumptuous, Your Royal Highness. Only to say that the warmth of one of your smiles, heats the soul in a way to make even the summer sun jealous," Shell added.

Galinda felt her cheeks fill with warmth, the servant's flattery acted as the perfect balm after being abandoned by the High Constable. Shell reminded her that she was beautiful and wanted.

"Are you really so fond of my smiles?" Galinda asked.

Shell keeping his head down said, "I am, Your Royal Highness. I am fond of everything about you—most of all—your _kisses_."

Galinda's ears grew hot. Simpering, she asked,

"Shall I give you another?"

Shell glanced up. His lips open in a surprised smile.

"There is nothing on heaven or earth that I want more," he said.

Galinda stood and said,

"Come to me."

Grinning, Shell rose from his knee and walked toward her, his tunic baring his left shoulder and pec, and falling high on his hairy bronze thighs. As he stopped inches from her, Galinda could smell his earthy scent, a mixture of sweat, damp soil, and roses.

She placed her palm on Shell's chest. He smiled and looked at her hand as it slid down his tunic. Galinda felt Shell's muscled stomach contract, the indent of his navel. She heard his breath deepen as her hand reached the crown of his coarse curly pubic hair underneath his garment. She had no desire to go any further, but instead she rubbed his pelvis in tiny light circles.

"Princess," Shell gasped.

Galinda saw his manhood quickly filling into a pole underneath his tunic.

"You're always full of vigor, aren't you?" she asked. Shell breath was too ragged to answer.

Placing her palms on his shoulders, she pulled herself up to kiss his cheek, her abdomen brushing the head of his hardening prick.

"AH—!" He twitched.

Galinda backed away. The strong Munchkinlander stood before her, unable to hide his hardness.

"Galinda!" Sir Chuffrey called, emerging from the bushes, several rows behind Shell. At the sound of the High Constable's voice, the peasant fell to his knee. Resting his forearm on his knee, his pressed his erection subtly against his thigh with his thumb. "Galinda, my darling, what are you doing out here alone?"

Galinda curtsied.

"I was looking for you," she said, bowing her head, grateful that Sir Chuffrey hadn't come a moment sooner.

"I'm sorry I didn't meet you for breakfast. Your father wanted to discuss the dark fairies," he said.

"Is everything all right?" Galinda asked.

"It appears they may have accosted the soldiers that went into the Forest last night to retrieve Lady Dayblwell's possessions," the High Constable said.

"Oh, no!" Galinda said, "That's terrible."

"It wasn't talk fitting breakfast with the princess of Gillikin. But don't worry, your father and I will come up with a plan to deal with this dark magic, whatever it is," Sir Chuffrey said and then glancing at Shell, asked "And who is this?"

"One of the royal gardeners," Galinda said.

"What's your name, boy?" Sir Chuffrey said.

"Shell Thropp, sir" he said.

"Another Thropp from the fallen Munchkin family? What are you doing here so close to the Princess?" Sir Chuffrey asked.

Shell's eyebrows furrowed, his body tightening.

"Tending to the royal rose gardens, sir," Shell said brusquely.

"Well then get to your post and don't bother Princess Galinda any further," Sir Chuffrey said.

Shell didn't move.

"Did you hear me?!" Sir Chuffrey shouted, walking toward him. "Sir Chuffrey," Galinda called, her hand falling through the air after the High Constable.

"Yes, sir," Shell said.

"Then why are you still here?"

"Because I am the gardner for the royal family and it is for Her Royal Highness to dismiss me when she wishes," Shell said.

"How dare you talk back to me, boy!" Sir Chuffrey said and grabbed the neck of Shell's tunic, hoisting him to his feet.

Shell dug in his heel. While a couple of inches shorter than Sir Chuffrey, Shell more than equaled him in muscle. The proud Munchkinlander stared back at the High Constable. With one fist holding Shell's tunic, Sir Chuffrey raised his other fist to strike him in his face. Punching him at such close distance would surely break his nose. Galinda grimaced and called out,

"Please, Sir Chuffrey! Don't. He was merely doing his job. He wouldn't have been close to me at all, if I hadn't come looking for you."

Sir Chuffrey paused, glowering at the gardener, before he slowly lowered his fist, and flung Shell back a step.

"I shall not hit you in front of Princess Galinda, but do not think I have forgotten this offense."

Shell glared at Sir Chuffrey, showing no semblance of gratitude. Galinda's stomach churned.

"Shell, you are dismissed for today. Go back to your quarters," she said.

"Yes, Your Royal Highness," Shell said, bowing low to Galinda, before turning away.

Sir Chuffrey stared after him until the gardner was far off in the distance.

"Thank you for not—" Galinda said.

"Galinda, you are not to speak to him again," the High Constable interrupted.

Her eyebrows rose. Not speak to Shell? She didn't even care if she ever saw the man again. But, who was Sir Chuffrey to tell her who she could or could not talk to—in _her_ castle.

"I don't think I understand—"

"Don't-speak-to-him-again! What don't you understand?" Sir Chuffrey asked, turning around, his blue eyes narrowing.

"But, he's a castle gardener. Am I not to talk to my own servants?" Galinda asked.

"As my wife, you will not talk to any man outside your family, unless I allow you," Sir Chuffrey said and Galinda's chest heated. Was she a child? A toy that Sir Chuffrey planned to hide way? Not even her own father treated her like this!

"You forget I am not your wife—not yet!" she said, and walked away from the High Constable.

"Galinda! Galinda!" Sir Chuffrey called out, but Galinda just picked up her dress and ran. She ran toward the stables, tears falling down her cheeks. She had so wanted Sir Chuffrey to admire and respect her, but it was impossible. How would he ever see her as worthy of respect, if he insisted she were as fragile as an eggshell, to be kept tucked away until he needed her?

Galinda came upon the stables. They were emptied. All the servants were gone setting up for Harvest Festival and practicing for the Festival games. Sniffling, Galinda sat on a bench, underneath a window by the last stall. Wiping her tears, she heard familiar voices just outside the window.

"I've missed you. Why haven't I seen you anywhere in the castle?" Fiyero asked.

"I've been avoiding you," Elphaba said flatly.

What was this? Fiyero and her lady's maid talking behind the stables? Galinda climbed onto the wooden bench. Hunching down so only the top of her head and eyes were visible, she saw Fiyero standing holding Elphaba's arm. Her lady's maid stood looking away from him, toward the castle.

"Why would you avoid me?"

"I am a servant; you are a prince. There's nothing for us to talk about."

"You can't mean that. We talked plenty the other day by the orchards," Fiyero said.

"A servant in Gillikin can only say, 'Yes, Your Royal Highness' or 'Certainly, Your Majesty' or 'Yes, Sir.' If she tries to say anything else, there are repercussions. Repercussions that you don't seem to mind, because it is I who must endure them!" Elphaba said, wrenching her arm out of his grip.

"Are you talking about supper last night?"

"Yes!" Elphaba yelled, glaring at him, "How could you? How could you ask me to speak to that vile man? Don't you know how dangerous it is for a servant to speak?! But of course you don't! You'll never know what it's like to have to bite your tongue and bow your head while they insult you—pull at you—tear you to pieces!"

Fiyero grabbed Elphaba's shoulders. The Munchkinlander tried to twist away from him, but Fiyero pulled her closer, hugging her. Elphaba sank into him. He stroked her head and said,

"I'm sorry, Elphaba. I was such a fool last night, a coward who could not defend you."

Galinda's chest sparked with anger. Elphaba had deceived her! The Prince clearly cared for _Elphaba_. And watching Elphaba in his embrace, it appeared she had feelings for him. She talked to him like he was her equal, a friend even, definitely not her superior. Galinda had never seen this side of Elphaba. No matter how _intimate_ she had been with Elphaba, Fiyero had gotten closer.

"Please don't avoid me anymore, Elphaba. I couldn't bear it. I'm already planning to leave early."

Elphaba leaned back in his embrace and asked,

"Why?"

"Ah—Is that concern I see in those brown eyes of yours? Is there hope that Elphaba Thropp Third Descending will miss me?"

Elphaba snorted.

"I haven't even gotten used to you yet. How could I miss you?"

"Shall I leave today then?" he asked.

Elphaba raised her chin.

"You may leave anytime you wish," she said.

Fiyero humphed.

"Would it please you to see me go?" he asked.

Elphaba paused, her gaze falling, her cheeks darkening. Galinda's heart thumped wildly in her ears.

"No," Elphaba admitted.

"I believe that's the kindest thing you've said to me," Fiyero said, grinning.

Elphaba ignored him and asked,

"But, you haven't told me why you're leaving?"

"King Upland has already signed the treaty and I can't bear to hear Sir Chuffrey dribbling on about himself for another two weeks. _I don't believe in giving away the riches that I earned_ _through the sweat of my brow t_ _o the lazy, stupid and indigent._ As if the Paltos army was populated by a single man!" Fiyero said.

How dare Fiyero mock the High Constable that way!

Elphaba laughed—a hearty, full bodied, sultry cackle—head back, chest rising and falling. Galinda felt a wave of jealousy. Fiyero had no right to look at her lady's maid like that, to make her smile like that.

"As if the weapons and silks he _stole_ from Munchkinland, he _earned_!" Elphaba said.

"How can fair Galinda stand him?" he asked

"She's too proud to see his faults," Elphaba said and Galinda felt her breath leave. "She asked me where I learned my opinion of the poor, if I had read it in a book," Elphaba said and snorted.

"What did you tell her?"

"I told her I learned of the poor from Runcible Castle," Elphaba said, "Before coming here, I had never lived in such abominable conditions nor experienced such indifference to misery, like the Gillikinese royalty exhibit toward their attendants."

"Was she not angry with you?" Fiyero asked.

"She was too vain to be angry. She thought I was praising the Castle's kindness toward their servants."

"Oh, the virtuous Gillikinese!" Fiyero said.

"If only narcissism was a virtue," Elphaba said.

Galinda's cheeks burned. So Elphaba hadn't been surprised by her intelligence. She had thought her an arrogant fool! Fiyero cupped the back of Elphaba's neck and drew her close, planting a kiss on her cheek. Galinda gasped. How could those lips kiss both Princess and monster? Elphaba stiffened but she did not pull away. His lips lingered on her cheek. How dare he! Elphaba belonged to her, and to her alone. No one else had the right to enjoy Elphaba without her permission. Not at all, not even a little.

"Meet me again," Fiyero pleaded.

"I don't know if that's wise," Elphaba said.

"I shall wait at the stables for you for seven nights until I take my leave."

Galinda felt sick.

"Perhaps I can see you one night," Elphaba said.

"Promise to come at least once," Fiyero said.

"All right. I promise, but now I really must go before the Castle notices my absence."

"Until we meet again," he said and she nodded.

Galinda watched Elphaba rush away and slumped down on the bench. Her lady's maid had lied to her. The Munchkinlander and Fiyero were quite enamored with each other. At the thought of Fiyero touching Elphaba, undressing her, Galinda started to shake with fury. It was clear what needed to be done. She couldn't waste another day. She would ask Crope for it tonight. After a little splash, she could easily slip it on Elphaba and keep her lady's maid all to herself.

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 **A/N** : Thank you for your comments on the last chapter! They were such a delight to read. Last month was hard to find time to write, but I managed to find some time in the first days of April. I hope you enjoyed the introduction of Sir Chuffrey, along with Galinda struggling to make sense out of all the feelings she has for Elphaba. I welcome your thoughts, comments, and premonitions. Beware: the next chapter shall take a turn.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** Dear Wonderful Readers,  
Thank you all for your lovely reviews, favorites, follows, and PM's. Your comments were really encouraging to read. I'm eager to hear your thoughts and impressions on the twists in this chapter. Also, the relationship between our favorite witches gets a little darker, with the darkest chapter of all coming next month. But, I do promise that it gets lighter after Chapter 8 and a Gelphie romance will come. Happy Reading!

Xoxo,  
Lola

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 **Warning: Dark non-consensual sex scenes are included in this chapter. If that's not your reading preference, please skip this chapter and read other amazing Gelphie on this site!**

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Under the cloud-covered sky, Elphaba rushed through the tall yellow grasses past the outside servants' quarters, toward the castle, an extra skip in her step, a foreign smile on her lips, giddy at the memory of mocking Sir Chuffrey with Fiyero. Breathing in the crisp fall air and thinking of the Winkie Prince, a warmth filled her limbs, the kind she used to feel sitting in front of the library fireplace at Colwen Grounds. This was more than friendship. She was certain. And, yet, she was equally convinced her feelings were less than what Fiyero felt. The warmth of his lips, the roughness of his face against her cheek, his hand pressing against her the small of her back, they all told her he wanted her. And, yet, she only wanted reprieve—a brief escape from a servant's life. She never expected to feel wanted, heard, or admired. Fiyero looked at her, not with a curious leer, but with a lover's devotion—a lover who was leaving. Which let her enjoy his company. Their relationship could never venture past friendly courtship at Runcible Castle nor did Elphaba desire anything more. Fiyero's carefree demeanor was the very thing that freed him to befriend her, but it also made Elphaba wary. For everyone knew carefree's twin was careless. And Fiyero's carelessness at the banquet table had been more than painful. He seemed wholly unaware of the confines of her situation and even less conscious of the consequences. And, yet, what he lacked in care, he exuded in charm. Elphaba smiled as she remembered his passionate pleading for her to see him once more. His body so firm, so earnest. Never did she think a man could have such feelings for her.

"Elphaba!"

Looking up, she jerked to a halt to avoid drumming into her brother who stood inches from her. His tunic was slightly torn and hung sloppily over his bare shoulder. Had he caught it in a rose bush?

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"Fine," she said.

"You were smiling."

"Snarling, I should think."

"I'm well-acquainted with your everyday disposition. This was different."

"It's the middle of the day; shouldn't you be in the gardens?" she asked.

He raised an eyebrow. She lifted her chin. She didn't have to explain Fiyero to Shell. She hadn't done anything wrong. Surely she was allowed a little shred of happiness for herself? Luckily Shell didn't pry. His suspicion was overtaken by a returning fervency.

"Chuffrey's a swine!" he announced.

"And, how do you know about him?" Elphaba asked. He couldn't have heard about the dinner last night, could he?

"I met him in the gardens with the Princess."

"What were you doing with her there?" she asked. Honestly, this silly obsession with Galinda only seemed to be growing.

"She wanted to kiss me again," he said, his chest coming forward.

Elphaba grimaced and yelled,

"Are you mad?! Did Sir Chuffrey see you—"

"No, but that he would. I wish he would see exactly how much I mean to her," he said.

Elphaba rubbed her face with her hands, a chill spreading through her. How heedless Shell was and how completely unaware of the depths of Sir Chuffrey's cruelty! And that air-headed Galinda—what kind of intentions were these? Was her brother a bit of premarital fun? A naughty diversion? Did she even care that her advances could get him killed!

"He's harsh with her," Shell said.

"Harsh or not, he's to be her husband!"

"Her husband?!" he asked.

"He's not a just potential suitor. They've been promised to each other."

"She doesn't love him," he said, crossing his arms.

"And what, she loves you? Is that what you think?"

"She prefers my company to his. That much she's made clear," he said, grinning.

"And— _how_ —exactly, did she do that?" Elphaba asked.

"That swine wanted to fight me—"

What had her brother done now?!

" _Shell_!" Elphaba said.

"He wanted me to leave Galinda's side, but I wouldn't. Only the Princess can tell me when to leave her. When I wouldn't leave, he tried to hit me," he said and Elphaba felt her stomach drop. "I would have defended myself," he said, "but I didn't have to, the Princess commanded him to stop. You should have seen how angry he was."

"You fool!" Elphaba said, "What good do think will come of making an enemy out of a Gillikinese nobleman?"

"I am not afraid of him! I'm not like you, Fabala," he said, crossing his arms.

Elphaba grit her teeth. Did her brother think her weak? Was she? Sir Chuffrey said filthy evils against her father and she didn't strike, spit, or even insult him. Not one word crossed her lips. With a flick of his wrist, the King dismissed her and she bowed. _Bowed_ to that devilish constable—and left the banquet hall. She could never tell her brother. If he knew how Sir Chuffrey had desecrated their father's body, he would insist on avenging him; and, Sir Chuffrey would insist that Shell hung from the highest tree. No, as the oldest, she would have to be the bearer of this sadness alone. She must become the image of weakness so that her siblings could have the fantasy of dignity.

"Have you thought of us at all?" she asked "If Sir Chuffrey should imprison you for offending a nobleman? How will you take care of Nessa then?"

"The Princess would never allow such slanderous charges to be brought against me," Shell scoffed.

"Oh, what a boy you still are! She may kiss you, but that doesn't mean she cares for you!"

"You only say that because you don't know her. You're too jealous to even try!"

Know Galinda?! It was her brother who didn't _know_ Galinda! He had no clue of the Princess' abuses. How Galinda made Elphaba bare herself for her amusement. What would he think of his dear Princess if he found out? More importantly what would he think of his sister? If he knew that Elphaba _came_ for Galinda whenever Galinda wanted, would Shell think her a whore? A disgrace? A blemish on the family line? He could never find out. Only when Galinda was vulnerable was she even remotely tolerable. Elphaba would never confess that this Galinda, this very Princess whom he pined for, had cruelly deflowered her.

"I think we should tell her about Nessa," he added.

"Over my dead body!" Elphaba snapped.

"The castle knows something's happened to the soldiers. It's only a matter of time before they try to raid the forest again. What if the Weavers aren't there to save Nessy this time?"

Raising her chin, Elphaba said,

"Galinda wouldn't care for Nessarose any more than the soldiers would! You met the Princess in the garden a few times and that makes you think you know her? You will not risk our sister's life because of some vulgar thrill you indulge with her—"

"Galinda's not just some thrill to me, Fabala! I lo—"

"I don't have time to argue about this right now! Just stay out of Sir Chuffrey's way while he's here!"

She rushed back to the castle, before Shell could properly say it. _Love._ Could he really _love_ Galinda? Elphaba shook her head. No matter what Shell thought he felt, there was no way Galinda would ever return his affections. She had to make him see that before he put himself or Nessa in danger. Rushing up the stairs, into the servant's kitchen, she saw Nanny rise from the table and stopped. With a stern expression, the old woman asked where she had been. Elphaba used the archery festival as an excuse but this only annoyed Nanny who put her hands on her hips and said,

"The practice matches ended well beyond an hour ago!"

Elphaba pinched her dress between her fingers. She couldn't tell Nanny about her conversation with Shell and definitely not her conversation with Fiyero. The old woman had already made it clear how she felt about the Winkie Prince. She kept silent, bowing her head.

"Fine! Keep your secrets," Nanny said, clearly hurt by Elphaba's silence, "But, don't expect me to keep covering for Your Eminence, when Mrs. Morrible asks for Your Eminence again!"

"Mrs. Morrible?" Elphaba asked.

"Yes, designers from Southern Gillikin have left new garments, ornaments, and shoes for the Princess. Your Eminence is to hang the clothes, and shine and lace the shoes before Princess Galinda comes back to be changed for supper. Now hurry upstairs before Mrs. Morrible comes back down!"

Elphaba nodded, leaving the kitchen and scurrying up several flights. She turned the corner to walk to the Princess' room, when Sir Chuffrey emerged from his guest room in the hallway in front of her. Elphaba's legs tightened. She glanced behind her. It would take less than minute to run back to the stairwell. If she dashed maybe she could make it before he looked up.

"What do we have here? Elphaba, was it?" Sir Chuffrey asked. There was no escaping now.

She turned back to see the High Constable, in his red military uniform, decorated with pins and strips, walking toward her. Swallowing, she said,

"Yes, sir."

"Are you even allowed up here?" he said, stopping a pace too close to her.

"Yes, sir," she said, taking a step back.

Without warning, the High Constable grabbed her by the jaw, squeezing her cheeks tight with his long fingers, a sharp pain zipping through her face. She clenched her teeth to keep from crying out.

"What brings you here?" he asked, jerking her face forward, his breath brushing across her forehead, smelling of eggs and wet wool.

"I'm the lady's maid to Princess Galinda," Elphaba managed to squeak through her squished jaws.

He chuckled.

"I doubt that. A beast as disgusting as yourself is not fit to be a lady's maid, especially not for the Princess of Gillikin!"

He squeezed her face tighter. The inside of her mouth grated painfully against her upper teeth. Her eyes started to mist. She couldn't cry in front of this devil. It would only encourage him.

"Just think a couple months ago you could have met me on the other side of my sword like your father. And, now you're lucky to live as my servant. The Unnamed God has been gracious to you, hasn't he?" he asked.

Elphaba kept silent, focusing on the ceiling, trying to disappear from her mind's eye the image of Sir Chuffrey beheading her father. "Answer me!" he shouted, and shook her by the jaw.

"Yesh," Elphaba slurred, the sides of her face cracking in pain.

"Now tell me the real reason why you're up here?" he badgered.

Elphaba shut her eyes. She couldn't make him stop. He wouldn't believe the truth and she couldn't think of a lie he would believe. He grabbed her hip and pressed his thumb into her pelvis, his nail gashing her. Her eyes shot open. Sir Chuffrey was grinning. No! He wouldn't do this to her! Not here! Out in the hallway, where someone could see!

"If you don't want to speak, then perhaps I can make you talk at the end of my other sword. Would you like that, you ugly green slut?" Sir Chuffrey whispered.

Elphaba's heartbeat hammered in her ears.

"Please, I swear to you by the Unnamed God, I _am_ the Princess' lady's maid," she pleaded through her squished mouth.

Sir Chuffrey grabbed a chunk of Elphaba's dress by her waist, hoisting it upward.

"Please! Don't do this," Elphaba begged, pushing with her hands against Sir Chuffrey chest, the edges of his military medals pricking her palms as he closed the distance between them.

"Elphaba, is that you?" Milla asked, coming out of her room, behind Sir Chuffrey. The High Constable released Elphaba and she flushed up against the wall away from him.

"You must be Sir Chuffrey?" Milla asked.

The Gillikinese man turned toward Milla and nodded,

"I didn't know anyone was still in their rooms. Whom do I have the pleasure of speaking with?" he asked.

"I'm Galinda's cousin, Milla," the girl said trying to peer around him, pieces of her peach-colored dress becoming visible. "Is that Galinda's lady's maid?"

"That's what she says," Sir Chuffrey said.

"That's what I _am_ —sir." Elphaba said, stepping to the side. Sir Chuffrey glared at her.

"Oh, good, I'm glad you've come Elphaba. Shall we see to Galinda's new clothes. I do want to see what the designers brought her."

"Yes, Your Ladyship," Elphaba said, and walked past Sir Chuffrey. She did her best to look unruffled, despite her throbbing jaw and violently beating heart.

Once she entered Galinda's room with Milla, the Gillikinese girl shut the door, and asked,

"Are you all right?"

The Munchkinlander raised an eyebrow. Milla was more discerning than she had thought, but did the young lady really care to know what had happened? What exactly had she seen? And, would she tell Galinda?

"I'm fine," Elphaba said.

"Did he hurt you, Elphaba?" Milla asked, reaching up to touch Elphaba's cheek. Milla only grazed her, but it stung. Elphaba looked away.

"I'll be all right, Your Ladyship," she whispered. "Please, I should unpack Princess Galinda's things before Her Royal Highness returns."

"Let me help you," Milla said.

How could this girl be related to Galinda? They were a world apart.

Elphaba nodded and headed to Galinda's bed on which sat a heap of wooden boxes. Hopefully Milla would become wrapped up in ribbons and ruffles and forget about her and Sir Chuffrey. What would Galinda say if she knew that Sir Chuffrey and her had had an encounter in the hallway? Would she insist that Elphaba tried to tempt Sir Chuffrey? Elphaba snorted. Who in Oz could ever find that devil attractive?! Raising a new corset out of a box, Elphaba sighed. She couldn't fret about Galinda's response now. There were too many boxes to unpack.

The two women worked in relative silence. Elphaba hung, shined, and laced, while Milla, sitting at Galinda's vanity, inspected all of Galinda's new hair ornaments, seeing how they sparkled on her own head. Elphaba was putting the final dress away when the door opened. Galinda and Crope walked through. Peeping over the wardrobe doors, Elphaba saw Crope was holding a pitcher of water and a box, as long as a bread box, as wide as a forearm, and as thick as a hand. He placed the water by Galinda's table and the box on her bed.

"Why are you here, creature?" Galinda asked.

By the sound of her voice, Elphaba knew she was in a mood, but before she could answer, Crope said,

"You're received new garments and jewels from Shiz. Mrs. Morrible ordered Elphaba to put them away."

"I've helped too," Milla added, smiling.

Galinda nodded, flashing a tight smile that never reached her eyes.

"Don't you want to see them?" Milla asked, holding up a silver and emerald necklace.

Elphaba, not looking forward to dealing with Galinda tonight, hid her face behind the wardrobe, preparing to pull out her new garments when Galinda said,

"No, I'm rather tired. Do you mind if I get a bit of rest, my dear cousin?"

"No, not at all! I'll just be in my room," Milla said, popping up from the vanity, walking over and kissing Galinda on her cheek, before exiting the room. Crope gave a crisp bow and followed behind Milla.

Elphaba felt a ray of hope that she wouldn't have to talk with Galinda at all. Closing the wardrobe, she walked toward the doorway when Galinda said, "Not you, creature," and shut the door.

"Can I help Your Royal Highness with something?" Elphaba asked, her hands fidgeting behind her back, her eyes on her feet.

Galinda paused so long, Elphaba looked up to see if she had heard her, and jumped. A coldness had returned to the Princess' eyes that she hadn't witnessed since she first came to Mount Runcible. Had Sir Chuffrey told her? Should she try to explain? Would it do her any good? Elphaba's hands found the creases of her dress.

"Do you think me stupid, troll?" Galinda asked.

"What—"

"Do you think I wouldn't find out?"

"Nothing happened!"

"Are caresses and kisses nothing to you?" Galinda asked, walking to her bed, and unhooking the silver clasp on the wooden box.

"Kisses?" Elphaba asked. What the devil had that Sir Chuffrey said happened between them?! If anyone was to answer for kisses, shouldn't it be the Princess!

"Don't try to play dumb. It won't help your cause," Galinda said, pulling from the box a metal and leather contraption.

"You're mistaken, Your Royal Highness!"

"Are you calling me a liar?" Galinda asked coolly.

"No, but, whatever it is, it's not what it seems!"

"It seems you have been unseemly," Galinda said, walking toward Elphaba.

"I was trying to get to Your Royal Highness' room. He apprehended me before I could."

"So now something did occur? Which is it? Did you meet him or not?" Galinda asked.

"We _met_ , but it wasn't planned. His actions were unwanted," Elphaba said, bending her neck as Galinda circled around her, her unsympathetic eyes scrutinizing her.

"You have a strange way of showing you don't want something," the Princess said.

How the raven chides blackness! Elphaba remembered how many times Galinda called her a monster yet always persisted in touching her.

"So you have no other plans to see him?" Galinda asked, grabbing the pitcher of water with her free hand.

"It is my intention to do my utmost to avoid him!"

Galinda tssked.

"Well, well, how cunning you are. You look like you really mean it," she said.

"I do mean it, Your Royal Highness! I promise."

"Then, perhaps I can help you keep your promise!" Galinda said, raising the contraption in her right hand.

How in Oz could that help? The object resembled an adjustable metal belt with two silver buckles on opposing sides. A key hole was on one buckle. From the other buckle a leather strap dangled, with a metal bulb in the middle and a metal tip that looked as if it inserted into the key hole buckle. Did Galinda mean to fit it on her? But how would one wear it? It was too large to be a collar and yet if it went around's one's waist, then the leather strap would come up right between the wearer's legs. Elphaba's eyes bulged. Galinda wouldn't. She couldn't. No. _No_.

"No!" Elphaba yelled.

Galinda tossed the pitcher of water at her. The Munchkinlander raised her arms, but the cold water splashed her face and limbs, soaking through her garment, running down her arms, between her breasts. The Munchkinlander choked. Touching her against her will was one thing, but chaining her like a beast was another! She had to keep Galinda away. But the tingling had already started. Tiny bolts shot up her feet, zipped up her thighs, aiming for her fleshy nub between her legs. Zip-zap! Zip-zap! She fell to her knees as her nipples hardened into sharp towers, tenting her dress.

She saw Shell's disgusted face in her mind's eye. Her clit swelled. She shook her head wildly at her traitorous body. She couldn't lose control over herself, not when Galinda meant to harness her! But the sensations were overpowering. Doubled over, she crossed her arms over her chest. Teasing prickles entered her most shameful places. Elphaba heard the water pitcher hit the stone floor behind her and felt Galinda's sharp heel strike her in the back. Flung forward, Elphaba's hands and face hit the cold stone floor, Galinda's heel pinning her to the ground. No! Please don't do this! Her nipples, wrapped in the wet cloth of her dress, pressed against the cold stone. Her womanhood ached with a painful pleasure. Damn that Sir Chuffrey! Damn him to hell!

And then, Galinda sat down — on her! Elphaba gasped. By her posture, Elphaba knew she was facing her feet or more accurately—her bottom.

"Please! Your Royal Highness, let me up."

"It's too late to beg now," Galinda said and Elphaba felt her dress rise, past her calves, past her thighs, past her naked buttocks, the castle air sweeping over her. She felt her liquid excitement running down her thighs. At the thought of Princess staring at her wet bottom, Elphaba blushed deep. Stop looking there! Get off me! Elphaba inwardly pleaded, trying to raise herself up with her hands, but the water had taken her strength.

Galinda circled the metal belt under her belly and around her back. Elphaba squirmed but Galinda synched it tight. The Princess' hands pulled her thighs apart. Elphaba knew what Galinda wanted. She shook her head.

"Please Your Royal Highness, stop!"

Galinda's finger slid between her vaginal lips parting her soaked pubic hair and pressed her finger deeper. Elphaba's hips convulsed at the touch of cool thin fingers against her hot wet flesh. Galinda found her opening. Elphaba twisted. Not like this! Not like this! Galinda couldn't humiliate her like this! But the leather band rose between her legs and Galinda's fingertip was replaced with a small metal bulb.

"Your Royal Highness, _don't_!" Elphaba shouted.

The cold roundness entered her slick sex. Elphaba grunted. The other half of the leather strap, a thin piece, was pulled between her butt cheeks. The strap was tugged tight, the smooth small bulb shifting inside her. She wanted it out. Right now! The front of the leather strap cupped her mons. Her thighs squeezed the leather, her pelvis rubbing back and forth, trying to push her nub against it, wriggle the metal ball, anything to wrest free, free from the contraption and free from these shameful feelings.

Tixt-Tick!

Galinda locked the leather strap in.

The Princess rose. Elphaba turned around, feeling the ball move inside her as she stood and watched Galinda slip a key inside her dress pocket. Elphaba pushed the top of the belt, hoping to get the metal past her hips. But the belt only pressed painfully into her skin. Elphaba inhaled sharply through her teeth and stopped. Reaching underneath her dress, she touched the middle of the leather strap between her vaginal lips. A few strands of her crisp black hair jutted past the leather and brushed her fingers. She tried to pull the leather off of her private area, but the metal bulb, almost a pinky's length inside of her, made the strap impossible to shift. Her wriggling only rotated the ball this way and that against her walls, sending shivers up her wet canal.

"You won't be able to remove it creature. It's locked. It's a royal traveling belt, also known as a chastity belt. It'll make sure you stay undefiled."

Elphaba felt herself turn a dark green.

"Take it off. Please, take it off!" she pleaded.

"I trusted you, but you lied to me," Galinda said crossing her arms over her blue-laced dress.

"Lied? Your Royal Highness must believe me. I—"

"Silence! If you behave yourself, I'll remove it once he leaves."

"But how can I...with it here—"

"How can you what, creature?" Galinda asked.

Elphaba's jaw clenched.

"With it where? Here?" Galinda asked and pressed her fingers against the metal buckle that lay underneath the Munchkinlander's garment. Elphaba glared at her. Galinda raised Elphaba's dress, past her thighs, revealing her bound sex. Elphaba turned her head, her cheeks flushing as Galinda slid her fingers down the leather appendage where it cupped her nether leaves. Galinda's hands grabbed her sex. Elphaba closed her eyes. Galinda's fingers pushed against the bottom of the metal bulb in the middle of the strap.

"Mmm!" Elphaba groaned.

"Does my dirty little monster like being touched _here_?"

Elphaba scowled. Galinda rubbed back and forth against the metal. Elphaba's clit throbbed. Her legs wobbled. Galinda wiggled it more. It twirled inside her. The feeling was so shameful, her cheeks were burning. Against her wishes, she rocked on her toes.

"You're so wet for your princess, you're soaking your leather belt, my dirty little monster," Galinda cooed in her ear.

Elphaba's hips convulsed— _hard_ —at the thought of glazing Galinda's fingers. It was a disgusting image, but, somehow the thought of Galinda keeping her this way and the pressure of her fingers— _just so_ — only made the feeling between her legs grow. The Princess pushed her backward and Elphaba toppled onto her bed. On her back, Elphaba propped herself on her elbows and raised her knees. Her dress fell back toward her torso, exposing her shackled sex. She should run, get away from Galinda, but the pulsating need in her cradle made it impossible. She was stuck there, offering her sex to Galinda's gaze.

The Princess climbed onto the bed, grinning as she maneuvered toward her, her eyes glossy. Elphaba saw the tops of Galinda's breasts jiggling. She should avert her gaze, stop staring with her mouth open, but the humming between Elphaba's legs wouldn't let her eyes leave the forbidden flesh.

Galinda sat between Elphaba's legs on her knees, ogling her belted entrance.

Elphaba's heart tribbled in her ears.

Galinda stretched out her hand, her warm soft fingers touching the top of her green knee, sliding up her smooth thigh.

Elphaba held her breath watching goosebumps line her legs.

Galinda's touch was exquisite. Elphaba should have closed her legs and sat up, anything but open her thighs wider for the Princess! As Elphaba parted her legs, the Princess' mouth fell open before it tightened into a snide grin. The Munchkinlander wanted to slap her. It was the water! This thing inside her! Galinda's bothersome touching that made her react this way! She wasn't doing this of her own free will. Don't you dare think I really want this, Galinda!

Smiling, the Princess purred,

"Do you want to show your Princess how hard you can come for her? Be a good little monster and ask me to touch you," Galinda said, shamelessly walking her fingers up and down along the length of Elphaba's locked womanhood. Elphaba grimaced. As Galinda continued to touch her, pressing into the leather, her breath shortened. She needed this throbbing to end. She needed...needed...She pushed her hips toward Galinda. Rubbing her sex against her hand. "Tell me what you want," Galinda said.

"I want this thing— _Uh_!"Elphaba's voice broke off as Galinda pressed the leather against her puffy nub.

"What, my dirty little monster?" Galinda asked, smirking.

 _I want you to let me out...let this finish... let me finish...let me... come._

The tingles shooting up her sex made it impossible to think straight. If only these sensations could stop. If only Galinda could...If she would just... press...a little more _..._

"Is this what you want?" Galinda whispered in her ear, bending down and kissing her throat.

Elphaba's eyes rolled back into her head, groaning, her lips wide. Galinda's sucked her pulse. She needed to resist. These feelings weren't her own. Galinda was forcing her to feel this. Forcing her to wet her belt.

Galinda's kisses moved down to her collarbone, Elphaba felt a puckering in her nipples. She couldn't hold out. Not like this. Not with Galinda's mouth on her. Hands on her. Rubbing her. Massaging her.

"Tell me, my dirty little monster," Galinda whispered.

"I want you to touch me!" Elphaba breathed out, her ears and cheeks unbearably hot.

Galinda's warm wet lips moved up and grazed her ear.

"Then, dance for me," she whispered.

"What?" Elphaba hissed through labored breaths.

"Make _me_ want to keep touching _you_ ," Galinda said, stopping her hand.

Elphaba's nostrils flared, her eyes shooting open. Not only must she ask to be violated, but now she must act like a harlot? She clutched Galinda's sheets.

"Of course if you don't want to dance, you could stay locked in for a month."

Elphaba's eyes grew. Was Galinda mad? How would she move in this, let alone relieve and wash herself? Not moving from her position, Elphaba rocked her hips once.

There. She did it.

"Raise your bottom from the bed and roll your hips. Roll them good for me," Galinda said.

Elphaba wanted to choke her, choke that grin right off her face. Instead, she raised her bottom. Galinda's pink tongue glided over her lips. As Elphaba rolled her hips, she could feel that pink tongue between her legs.

"Raise your dress higher. Keep dancing!" Galinda said.

Leaning back against Galinda's pillows, pulling up her dress, Elphaba heightened her movements, feeling the ball twist inside of her. She gnashed her teeth. Shell's horrified face flashed before her eyes. She could hear him say, 'How could you?!' 'What are you doing with Galinda?! 'You whore!' Elphaba jerked and called out,

"Touch me!"

Galinda leaned in, her abdomen brushed against Elphaba's grinding center. _Closer Galinda, please!_ Elphaba gyrated hard against her. Trying to push past the leather to feel the stimulation her body needed. Galinda's hands slid up her wet dress. Up her abdomen, up and up. Elphaba eyes widened when she realized where the Princess' fingers were heading. Galinda seized her hard green nipples through her wet dress. A sharp twinge surged through them. Galinda rolled her firm tips between her fingers. Elphaba panted. Galinda tugged at them. Never had such sharp painful twinges given her such pleasure. Elphaba humped harder and Galinda gave her a good squeeze. _Yes, just once more, once more, pull on them again._ But, Galinda stopped. Stopped everything and sat back.

"That is all for tonight," Galinda said.

But Ephaba hadn't come. Her eyes were still dilated, her breath heavy, her nipples sore, her loins shaking.

Sliding off the bed, Galinda said,

"You're dismissed until tomorrow morning."

Elphaba shivered with realization. Galinda had found a new way to humiliate her. Instead of making Elphaba orgasm, she made Elphaba beg for it, only to deny her. Elphaba pulled her dress over her knees, wrapped her arms around herself and slid off the bed.

She never felt so disgusted with herself. She had allowed herself to want it, to voice that want, to dance lewdly for Galinda. Now with her nipples hard and her clit buzzing, her bladder was full.

"Your Royal Highness," Elphaba said her voice cracking.

"Yes?"

"I need to—to—" Elphaba whispered, her hands gripping her elbows.

"Need to what?" Galinda asked, grinning.

Yes, Old Galinda was back in full force. The Galinda who liked to make her feel like a child. Taking a deep breath, Elphaba said,

"Relieve myself."

"Then ask for permission," the Princess said.

A cold sweat ran down Elphaba's neck.

"Does my dirty little monster need to wee?" Galinda asked with a smirk.

Elphaba felt dizzy, her eyes and cheeks hot.

"Do you, creature?" Galinda asked, walking toward her. Galinda's hand ran down Elphaba's stomach and pushed against the belt.

" _Yes_!" Elphaba hissed, Galinda's hand making it difficult to not wet herself.

"What does a dirty little monster need to say then?" Galinda asked.

"Your Royal Highness," Elphaba started and lost her voice, a painful heat engulfing her cheeks as she swallowed.

"What is it?" Galinda teased.

"Please..."

"Please what?"

"Please...may I urinate?" Elphaba whispered.

"Tomorrow morning before you undress me, you may relieve yourself then," Galinda said, turning and walking toward her vanity.

Elphaba's head shot up and she blurted,

"But, Your Royal Highness said if I asked—"

"No! I said you must ask, not that I must agree! No go to your room, before I make you wait until noon tomorrow!" Galinda said firmly and sat down. "I'll have Nanny undress me tonight."

Elphaba blinked and then blinked again. This couldn't be! But, then Elphaba remembered how the Old Galinda had forbade her to eat for a week. Old Galinda had taken a special thrill in demonstrating her power, reminding Elphaba that her body's basic functions were the Princess of Gillikin's to command.

Defeated, Elphaba left Galinda's room, wanting to run down the hallway and hide away as quickly as possible in her room, but the metal bulb inside her slowed her pace to a sloth's. Stepping down the staircase, Elphaba had to be careful not to take them too quickly and jostle the belt. When she finally crept inside her room, she closed the door. Her back scraping against the oak as she slid down until her bottom met the stone floor. She yelped, jerking her rump upward. At such a straight angle the leather pulled hard between her legs and pushed the belt into her. She squeezed her thighs together and lay on her the side to allow for a pinch of slack. The archery contest was in four days. How could she perform with this device on? Would that wretched Galinda even keep her word and remove it once Sir Chuffrey left? And what about Fiyero? Remembering her promise, she cringed. She had never broken a promise. Never even had a friend to promise anything to. But, if he were to find out about this belt, to hear the metal clink, Elphaba shuddered. Her breath formed little small clouds in front of her. She couldn't worry about any of that now. She had to concentrate on not wetting herself. She wouldn't be able to sleep in her bed until Galinda removed the horrible device. She could already hear how the servants would gossip about her if she wet the bed.

She shivered. Her bed with its measly single sheet was chilly, but the stone floor was numbingly frosty. Perhaps she would be lucky enough for her piss to freeze inside her. If only she didn't have Nessarose or Shell, then she might be able to throw herself out the window. End it all. But she did have them and unlike her father, she couldn't leave them.

As the pressure in her abdomen grew, she clenched her jaw and tried to lay still until eventually the sensation between her legs finally quieted and she fell into a comfortless sleep.

Days passed with the belt on. Elphaba managed to walk a little quicker, but not much. She found she could hold the leather away from her bottom when needed, but she could never adjust the front of the belt to void without wetting herself, so she was forced to ask Galinda for permission. The Princess allowed Elphaba to use a pot three times a day, under her direct supervision, her blue eyes falling between her legs. Once Elphaba finished, Galinda would lock her back in. The entire process was mortifying, but what was worse were the times Galinda made her wait. The pressure would build and build and build as Galinda fondled the leather between her legs and pressed the underside of the metal bulb. Elphaba's body would betray her, her cheeks going hot with arousal, a shameful arousal she could never satisfy since Galinda hadn't _fully_ touched her in that way since she put the belt on.

Now, six days later, the morning of the tournament, Elphaba stood on the field, waiting for the targets to be placed, her bladder tight. Galinda told her she could relieve herself after the tournament— if she won. If she didn't, she would have to wait till evening. She glanced up in the stands, among hundreds of ladies and lords of Gillikin, Elphaba saw the smiling Princess next to the King and Sir Chuffrey. Fiyero and his advisor were also present. The Prince's brown eyes were tied to her. He must be wondering why she hadn't come. She looked away.

On the field, attendants were bringing out wooden and hay scarecrows. Tight red circles were painted over their faces, hearts, guts, genitals, and feet, indicating where the archers should aim. Elphaba felt her breath catch when she saw what the scarecrows were wearing. Those puffy sleeves, upturned boots, and bright colored silk scarves. They were dressed in Munchkin traditional clothing. Was she to pierce these wooden Munchkinlanders? Would Mount Runcible not be satisfied until it shattered every last bit of pride she had.

"Archers get ready," the officiating attendant called out.

Elphaba didn't move. How could they expect her to shoot at her own countrymen. Her father had a scarf just like that orange one. "Archer, draw your bow!" the official shouted.

Let the king come down and do it himself! Elphaba had had enough.

"Archer!" the attendant yelled, but Elphaba remained motionless. Whisperings started to blossom among the ladies and the lords in the stands. Let them gossip! Let the King be embarrassed. From the corner of her eye, Elphaba saw the attendant, a burly man with a round belly, walking toward her behind the other participants. She dropped her arrow in the grasses.

"Have you gone deaf?! Pick up your arrow and draw your bow!" he shouted.

Elphaba kept still.

"I'll tell you one more time to pick up that arrow and bow and if you refuse and try to embarrass me, I'll have you stripped and whipped in the public square. How would you like that?"

Elphaba snorted. What would the King say when he found the royal traveling belt locked around her? How would Galinda explain that? Suddenly, a lashing seemed a small price to pay for embarrassing the Princess.

"Is that what you want? The King, all the lords and ladies, and all the castle servants seeing your disgusting body bared?"

Castle servants? _Shell_! He couldn't see her this way. Not him. Not her brother.

"Pick—up—that—arrow!" the attendant commanded.

Elphaba inhaled and slowly lowered her arm and picked up the arrow.

"Don't try that foolery again," he said and stalked back to his post.

Drawing her bow, Elphaba imagined pivoting and sending her arrow flying into the stands, grazing Sir Chuffrey's ear. Instead, she lowered her arrow and aimed at the red circle right over the Munchkinlander's heart. Elphaba felt the taut string pulling hard at her fingers. Her hands shook, she swallowed back a lump in her throat.

"Commence!" the attendant said. _For Nessa!_ She released her grip and her arrow pierced the Munchkin's heart. Arrows wizzed through the air. She pulled another arrow. For Shell. Another hit. For the day when they would be free from the Gillikinese. Hit. Elphaba drew another arrow and another and another. Each one she released, she met her target.

It wasn't long before the match was over and the King was celebrated as the victor. Elphaba was sent back to the stables to change.

In the third stall on the left, she removed her boots, her arm guards, and her archer's vest. Before she grabbed her maid's apron on the hook beside her, she felt the metal belt underneath her dress. A pressure had filled her bladder, and with every shift of her weight, the metal ball slid inside her and made her want to relieve herself all the more. If she kept her movements to a minimum she might be able to hold out for two more hours. Fiddling with the leather strap, she felt a whoosh of air behind her as the fabric door to her stall was pulled back.

"The stall's taken!" she said, dropping her dress as she whipped around.

Fiyero stood before her in his green suit, his eyes searching her. Had he seen it? Had he noticed the belt?

"What are you doing here?" she hissed, trying to stand normally.

"Why haven't you come?" he asked.

"I couldn't get away," she said.

"You promised! I've waited every evening for you, barely getting a wink of sleep. Does your word mean nothing?"

"I really don't have time for this silly nonsense!" she said grabbing the curtain.

"Nonsense?" he said, yanking it back. "Oh, yes, how busy you must be with all your other suitors and these riveting festival games of 'Shoot the Munchkin,'" he snapped.

How dare he lecture her! She knew better than anyone how horrible her life was here.

"Forgive me for not having the luxury of boredom. We can't all be Winkie Princes!" Elphaba said.

"Boredom? Is that why you think I want to see you? I'm not bored! I like you very much and I was sure you felt a little fondness for me. Why are being this way?"

Of course she felt _a little fondness_ for him. But, it didn't matter. As long as she was at Runcible Castle, she was Galinda's play thing. And a play thing didn't have a life of her own. She couldn't even take a walk with Fiyero with this belt on. Friendship was clearly impossible as was any other relationship Fiyero might have wanted with her. She would only disappoint him and the feeling he stirred up in her, this hope for a little happiness all her own in Gillikin, was beyond dangerous. If she got too attached to the way she felt with Fiyero, she would never adapt to life as a lady's maid.

"Sneaking out to see you wasn't worth losing a night's sleep over. Please don't wait up tonight. Now, release that cloth, and let me dress!"

"I don't even know when we'll meet again," he said, still holding the curtain.

"Most likely never," she said.

"How can you be so cold?"

"You didn't expect me to blubber over your leaving, did you? Fiyero, you're like the wind, only noticeable when you're howling about something. Hardly something someone would miss."

Fiyero grimaced, his lip trembling. Elphaba raised her chin. He squeezed the cloth in his fist, before he threw it at her and stalked away. Elphaba leaned against the wooden stall. There. That wasn't so hard, was it? But as the sounds of his footsteps faded, she felt her breath catch, a stinging building behind her eyes.

When Elphaba finally made it to Galinda's room and announced herself. She pulled out the porcelain pot from under Galinda's bed that Galinda made her relieve herself in and waited. The Princess pretended not to notice, sitting at her vanity for few minutes before she turned and acknowledged her.

"What do you want?" Galinda asked.

Holding the pot in front of her, the Princess knew what she wanted, but she wouldn't be satisfied until Elphaba said it out loud.

Sighing, the Munchkinlander asked,

"Your Royal Highness, may I relieve myself?"

"Take your dress off," Galinda said.

"What?" Elphaba whispered. Normally Elphaba only pulled up her dress and squatted.

"You heard me," Galinda said.

Elphaba didn't have time to argue. Not that Galinda would listen to her if she did. Exhaling, Elphaba put down the pot and started unbuttoning herself.

"Good girl," Galinda said.

When the Munchkinlander finished with the buttons, she slid off the dress and stepped out of it. Her arms covering her breasts as she waited for Galinda to unlock her.

"Place your hands on your head," Galinda said.

Elphaba glared at her before her arms slowly rose away from her teats. Resting her hands on her head pulled her hardening tips up for Galinda to inspect. The Princess smiled, pulling the key from her pocket as walked toward Elphaba. The Munchkinlander began to shift, trying to prevent a dribble of pee from escaping. Galinda raised her free hand and caressed Elpahba's warm breast. The Munchkinlander's cheeks heated as Galinda's hands trailed this way and that over her bare mounds. Elphaba squeezed her thighs together, pursing her lips, as Galinda toyed with her hard tips. After a few minutes, Galinda placed the key in her belt and unlocked her. Elphaba spread her legs as had become their ritual and the Princess slowly pulled the leather strap away from her womanhood, the small metal bulb popping from her.

Galinda held it up. A glistening layer of excitement encased the bulb. Elphaba clenched her eyes shut.

"Have you been enjoying this?" Galinda asked giggling.

The Munchkinlander kept silent.

"You may squat creature, but don't start."

Elphaba lowered herself over the pot and waited.

"Keep your hands on your head," Galinda said as she squatted beside her, her fingers sliding through Elphaba's wet leaves. The Munchkinlander whimpered at the contact. Her eyes clenching tighter.

"Roll your hips," Galinda instructed.

Elphaba wanted badly to relieve herself but instead she was forced to stimulated herself against Galinda's hand. Her tiny breasts quivering. After what seemed like an age, Galinda removed her hand and said,

"You may go now, my dirty little monster."

Elphaba had held it so long, she had to press down for a while before it started. Galinda hadn't stood up. Instead, her fingers traced Elphaba's belly button while she peed, making Elphaba feel a rush of heat between her legs. When the Munchkinlander finished, Galinda rose and walked toward the belt. Elphaba grabbed the bowl and took it to Galinda's door. Turning around, she saw Galinda holding the chastity belt. Sighing, Elphaba walked over to the Princess waiting for Galinda to fit it on her again. But instead the Princess walked to her wardrobe, pulled out its wooden box, and put the belt inside, tucking the contraption into her wardrobe. "Now that the Prince has left, I suppose we can put that away. Although perhaps we'll bring it back out for special occasions," she said and winked.

"The Prince?" Elphaba asked.

"Didn't you hear? Prince Fiyero left after the tournament, you fool," Galinda said closing the wardrobe doors.

Elphaba froze. Fiyero? Fiyero already left? Wait...Did that mean...All this time... Galinda wasn't upset about some lie Sir Chuffrey told her. She hadn't thought that Elphaba tried to bed her betrothed. Instead, Galinda had been jealous that Fiyero cared for her. But how did Galinda know how he felt? And why did it matter? She clearly couldn't care less about him. Was Galinda really so cruel to belt her because someone dared to have feelings for her? Was no one allowed to be good to Elphaba in this place?! Suddenly she remembered Fiyero's wounded look in the stables before he walked away. Elphaba would never see him again. Even if he did come back to Gillikin someday, he would never want to see her. Not after how she treated him. Her chest radiated with fury.

Galinda waltzed toward her, stood on her tip-toes, and planted her full lips against Elphaba's.

The Munchkinlander didn't budge.

"Kiss me," Galinda whispered, fondling her bare breast.

Elphaba finally understood. Galinda didn't want Fiyero. She wanted her! She wanted her all to herself. Galinda was jealous and this belt was her way of possessing Elphaba.

"Love doesn't work that way," Elphaba whispered, her body rigid.

"Love? Who said anything about love?" Galinda said, her voice shrill.

"How can you be so selfish, so remorseless?" Elphaba said.

"What did you say to me?!" the Princess asked wide-eyed.

"Punish me as you like, but I will never want you. I will never be yours. I will never love you. But, how would you know anything about love? Since the only man who has ever made a pass at you, my pretty—was your _father_!" Elphaba said.

Galinda's face turned red as a radish.

SMACK!

Elphaba stumbled backward from the blow.

"How dare you!" Galinda said. "HOW DARE YOU!"

Galinda lunged at her again but Elphaba dodged her, dashing toward her dress on the floor. With her heart pounding in her head, she bent down and grabbed it, running out of Galinda's room naked, down the hall, past Sir Chuffrey's open door.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:** Dear Readers — Sorry for the delay. I thought this chapter would be the shortest but it turned out to be the longest. It is also very dark, the darkest part of the whole story. **This chapter contains violence and rape. The darkness of these sexual scenes exceeds the previous chapters. If you do not care to read graphic non-consent, please skip to the next chapter.** While the events of this chapter will be referenced, you do not need to read it to understand the rest of the story. For all those who choose to read this chapter, I will be grateful to hear what you think. Thank you to those readers who come back each month! And, thanks for all the new follows, favorites, and comments.

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 **Warning: Darkest chapter of the story. Read note above before reading.  
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Galinda could only stand and stare at the open doorway, her hand stinging from the slap, her breath uneven. Elphaba knew. Deep down Galinda always knew she must. Why else would she have kept her bruises a secret? But, since they never discussed that night, Galinda could pretend otherwise, sparing her from the thought that Elphaba pitied her. Her lady's maid's footsteps faded. Galinda could have the guards bring her back. But, how would she explain Elphaba's nakedness? And how could she face her lady's maid now that Elphaba voiced her secret, not the secret of how her father treated her, but something even more private:

 _Love_ doesn't work that way.

The word pricked her. Galinda hadn't even understood how she felt herself. How could that creature? It couldn't be love that made her inspect Elphaba? Touch her? Force her to orgasm? _She meant to torment her!_ Nothing more. So when had she started to crave her? She had kissed Elphaba, kissed her neck, and tonight her lips, but not as a taunt. No...not as a taunt. She kissed her to best Fiyero. Galinda had left the creature frustrated several nights to ensure she would reciprocate. But the monster hadn't. Elphaba's refusal felt like a kick to the stomach. How coyly she smiled for Fiyero when he lingered on her cheek. She had tilted her head ever so slightly, bending into his mouth.

The image seemed burned onto her eyelids. Galinda seated herself at her large oval vanity mirror, scowling. Everything was crumbling. Before her life had been simple. Before Miss Clutch. She knew the path she must walk. If it wasn't for that tickle that crept up her belly, that afternoon Miss Clutch's thigh brushed against hers. The more-than-tickles that came when Miss Clutch opened their first book. The more-than-tickles that swelled into gnarled longings, mushrooming in her stomach, like sprouts stretching toward the light. Longings that intruded into her dreams, bathing her in lavender and cinnamon. From which, she would awake, shallow of breath and hot with fever.

She had thought nothing that strong would go unanswered. But as suddenly as Miss Clutch entered her world, she left. Galinda's longings and tickles faded into an acheful tenderness. A tenderness she thought was permanent. Nothing could have braced her for the fiery return of her desire, this time for a deformed Munchkinlander! It wasn't fair! The creature was nothing like Miss Clutch. She wasn't beautiful, she wasn't kind, she wasn't even Gillikinese! So why? Why must she feel these vexing whatever-things for her? As if in answer, she remembered. Elphaba's small sensitive breasts. Her smooth penetrating voice. Her sharp enticing smell. Her unapologetic intelligence. Her indefatigable strength. Galinda shook her head. Stop! Stop! Stop! She had to stop thinking this way or that troll would be the end of her!

Why couldn't she feel inspired by her betrothed? Why couldn't she get caught in his rotation, like she had as a young girl? He was still handsome, still well-spoken, still respected, wasn't he?! But try as she might, his talents no longer symbolized the happy future she once imagined. Instead Galinda's desire for Elphaba, clung to her, like a pimple scar that refused to vanish.

 _Knick. Knock._

Galinda's heart thumped at the thought of Elphaba standing in the open doorway, full of contrition.

Instead—

She turned to see Sir Chuffrey in his red uniform. Her heart flipple-floppled. They had barely spoken since their altercation in the garden. What could he want at this hour? As she rose, Sir Chuffrey crossed the threshold and shut the door behind him. Galinda jumped. Visiting her unchaperoned in her bedroom was brazen, but closing her door was all together indecent.

"Sir Chuffrey, please, I don't think it proper to be speaking alone in my bedroom at such an hour," Galinda said.

"I think it improper for a naked lady's maid to be running from her mistress' bedroom at any hour," he parried.

Galinda coughed into her hand. He saw! Elphaba. Running. Naked. Galinda assumed the creature had flown down a hallway of closed doors and slipped her clothes on in the stairwell. Never had she imagined someone might still be up to see her mad dash. If Sir Chuffrey found out what Galinda had been doing with Elphaba, he would certainly call off the engagement. If the news became public, Galinda could only imagine her father's response. Permanent banishment to one of those ghastly dormitories for unruly ladies would be a leniency.

"I can explain," Galinda started, blood pumping in her ears.

"I except no less," said Sir Chuffrey, crossing his arms behind his back.

Galinda's stomach knotted as his feet came closer, transversing her finely-knitted red and gold rug.

"You see, sometimes my lady's maid can be defiant," she started.

"Like at the dinner table last week," Sir Chuffrey offered.

"Yes! Exactly like at the dinner table."

"Go on."

"So...well...you see...when she gets _rebellious_...sometimes I must punish her, not because _I_ want to, but because she would only get worse if I didn't."

" _You_ made her undress?" Sir Chuffrey asked, eyebrows raising.

Galinda needed air. Her dress suddenly felt heavy and sticky against her flushed skin. Sir Chuffrey's beady blue eyes bored into her, refusing to be satisfied.

"Yes, but, but only to embarrass her, so she would mind her manners."

Sir Chuffrey stared at her for a while. Galinda bowed her head under his hot gaze.

"I'm impressed," he finally said.

Galinda looked up to see a smile forming underneath his mustache.

"Impressed?" she gulped.

"Yes, after our talk in the gardens, I was afraid you might be too naive to rule a kingdom, but now I see I was wrong. You're not derelict in your obligations, just kind-hearted, as all good ladies are," he said with a proud smile, his long teeth showing.

How would Sir Chuffrey know what it takes to rule a kingdom?! The presumption! She wanted to throw Sir Chuffrey out, but instead she batted her eyelashes and flashed a smile. The high constable took another step closer and clutched Galinda's hand. She startled at the contact, his wet warm palm wrapping around her ungloved fingers. She wanted to sink into the floor.

Sir Chuffrey grinned at Galinda's flushed cheeks. She had to be handled delicately. Galinda was still a child in many respects and like a child, she must be taught how to act appropriately. He had been foolish to think it could be any different. She was a lady, a would-be mother, not one of his soldiers. She was not meant to think deeply about the darker ways of the world. Such thinking required a level of criticality, for which women clearly had no aptitude. This was due to their motherly nature. Galinda clearly was not unaffected by it. In trying to contain Elphaba, she didn't understand the degree to which Munchkinlanders needed to be taught their place, especially the arrogant ones. She had yet to see the suffering Munchkinlanders were capable of inflicting. If he were a good husband, he could teach her the ways of the world. His wife would be strong and not give into the Munchkinlanders' deceits like his mother had. This time it would be different. With his help, Galinda could blossom into the obedient noble queen she should be.

Galinda couldn't tell what Sir Chuffrey was thinking, nor why he insisted on prolonging this conversation. If she had impressed him, shouldn't that have settled the matter? Why was he still _here,_ in her bedroom?

"I know my visit this time has been difficult for us both," he started. "We don't yet know each other. But, you must know that even when we disagree, I have only the best intentions for you. Will you forgive me for raising my voice to you before in the gardens?"

"Yes, it is all forgotten," Galinda said, wanting to withdraw her hand, now moist with his sweat.

"And, you do trust your father?" he asked.

"Why, of course!," Galinda said, surprised at the turn of conversation.

"Then you must believe he wouldn't marry you to me if he thought I would wouldn't be good for you."

Galinda held back a sigh,

"Most certainly," she said, knowing full well her father would have married her to a goat if it meant maintaining his kingdom. She had thought herself lucky that her husband was to be Sir Chuffrey. What a childish thought that had been!

"Will you now trust me, as the man your father chose to protect you?"

"I...will," Galinda said.

"Excellent!" he snapped. "Then _I_ will punish Elphaba for you."

"Excuse me?" Galinda squeaked.

"You said yourself she's shown herself defiant, to say nothing of what I witnessed myself. Your punishments while well-intentioned do not appear to be stemming her ill bent," he said.

"I wouldn't quite say that," Galinda hemmed.

"I would. And, this way, we shall halve the burden of the servants."

"But—"

"Galinda, please!" Sir Chuffrey said raising his hand "Either let me punish Elphaba for her offenses or I must mention her behavior to the King. It isn't proper for a lady's maid to continue to act this way toward the future Queen of Gillikin."

"No! You mustn't worry my father about this, please!" Galinda pleaded.

If her father heard that Elphaba had coming running naked from her bedroom, he would suspect Galinda of indecency. She could still remember how angry he was when she walked in on him with Miss Clutch. He ran after her, his pants up but not properly tied. He pinned her against a wall in the corridor, smelling of ale. Tears streaked down her cheeks as she shouted, ' _How could you?'How could you hurt her?!'_ Her father's lips tensed, his hand pressing into her stomach. ' _Contain yourself! I am the king of this castle—all the servants are mine to do with it as I see fit,'_ he yelled. But, Galinda couldn't contain herself, or her feelings for Miss Clutch. ' _She was mine! My dearest friend! And you hurt her. You defiled her in OUR library!"_ The King's pupils narrowed, his lips shaking. With a flash, his hand raised and he slapped Galinda with a blistering force. The Princess' head flipped right, a stinging shooting through her nostrils, her eyes watering. ' _Your library? Your library, Galinda?! What reason does a woman have to be in a library with a servant at all?'_ Galinda shook her head, wiping her bloodied nose with her sleeve before she whispered, _'It was only a couple of stories.'_ The King grabbed Galinda's throat and hissed, _'The Princess of Gillikin will not disgrace herself by shouting of a friendship with a servant! Nor will she shame herself by disobeying the laws of this land."_ His meaty hand roamed upward, combing over her breast, Galinda's eyes widened in shame. A shiver coursed through her as his warm hand lingered there. Finally, he reached up for her shoulder. Grabbing it, he flung her down the corridor. She stumbled, trying to hobble up as he shouted at her, " _Get to your room now and never enter that library again or I shall really punish you for it!"_

"Galinda?" Sir Chuffrey asked pulling her from her memory, "Will you let me punish Elphaba?"

"Do as you see fit Sir Chuffrey," Galinda mumbled. Surely, whatever Sir Chuffrey decided to do to Elphaba couldn't be worse than what her father would do to her.

The High Constable smiled, his eyes turning into slivers. He brought Galinda's hand to his lips. How could his pale eyes be so dark? He patted her limp hand before dropping it. "I shall let you know what I decide," he said and slipped from her room.

Seeing the door close behind Sir Chuffrey, Galinda looked up at the ceiling coffering and sighed. She should feel relieved she kept her relationship with Elphaba a secret from Sir Chuffrey. But, questions crowded out any sort of alleviation. Just how would he handle Elphaba? Would he beat her? Would he do it publicly? Galinda couldn't guess.

There were times she found Sir Chuffrey hideous, like at the dinner table or in the garden. But, there were times he surprised her, like his apology for raising his voice. She did appreciate a man who was big enough to admit wrong. And, Sir Chuffery's anger toward the gardener was because he didn't want her disrespected. While Galinda disagreed with his methods, she appreciated that he cared. She couldn't deny her feelings for her lady's maid weren't healthy. Not to mention her _inspections_ of Elphaba had failed in getting the creature to resign. Instead, Galinda was the one who had fallen, fallen for a troll. Her lady's maid remained immune. Now, probably fast asleep in her room, or if still awake, mourning Fiyero's departure. Galinda sighed; walking to the corner of her room, she rang a cord for Nanny to undress her.

The next morning, Galinda was more than a little stunned to see her lady's maid with her chin in the air, at her door in her usual yellow dress and white apron. Her brown eyes looked away, but nothing else about her demeanor communicated submission, let alone repentance. The audacity! Did the creature think she could just say whatever she wanted to the Princess of Gillikin and get away with it? Galinda had half a mind to make her strip and bend over, but she stopped. Her future husband would handle her lady's maid. And, for once since his arrival, Galinda looked forward to their next conversation.

When her lady's maid started to dress her, Galinda felt it. A tremble in Elphaba's hands. So the monster was a bit nervous after all? _Good_! After her performance last night, she was lucky Galinda hadn't cut her wages for a month! After dressing and pinning up her hair, Elphaba waited in front of Galinda to be dismissed, her eyes on the far wall. No matter how brave and unfeeling the monster looked, her stiffness communicated a nervous anticipation. It would only take a second for Galinda to make good on the monster's fears. To peel back the top of Elphaba's dress and see her lady's maid's tiny melons. Watch Elphaba's jaw tighten with displeasure and her cheeks darken with embarrassment as she touched them, twisting her nipples like dough. She could make her scream her name as she came for her. But afterward, Elphaba would hate her more. Nothing would change. There was no amusement in that. From now on, Sir Chuffrey could see to her lady's maid.

"You're dismissed," Galinda said.

Elphaba startled, hesitating, surveying Galinda's face for a hint of a trick. Galinda placed her hands on her hips and Elphaba nodded and ducked out. Galinda rolled her eyes.

She succeeded in not thinking about Elphaba until half past noon. She was in the tea cabinet, sitting across from Milla at a petite round wooden table, dressed with a a plate of oysters, a bowl of buttered bread rolls, and two cups of tea. Galinda raised a shell to her lips, sucking the meat into her mouth as her cousin blurted,

"Has Sir Chuffrey told you about his encounter with Elphaba?"

Galinda pursed her lips to keep from coughing the oyster muscle all over Milla.

"Mm," she swallowed, before wiping her lips with a white cloth napkin. "An encounter?" _Had Sir Chuffrey shared his late-night vision with Milla?!_

"After the tournament, when Elphaba came to hang your new clothes. Didn't he tell you?" Milla clarified.

Galinda's eyebrows rose. But that was before Elphaba's naked dash? Sir Chuffrey hadn't said anything about this. Galinda could only shake her head, afraid her voice would betray her.

"I see," Milla said, looking down.

Galinda waited several seconds but Milla said nothing and looked as if she was finished with the topic. Galinda cleared her throat and said,

"I'm afraid I don't?"

Milla kept her eyes on the table, trailing her fork through her bowl of shells.

"Milla?" Galinda said, scooting to the edge of her seat.

"It's most likely nothing."

"The sooner you tell me, the sooner I can assure you."

"I didn't want to upset you," her cousin said.

"Well, now you really must tell me after all this mystery," Galinda said, extending her hand across the table.

"I-I heard raised voices in the hallway yesternoon," Milla started. "So I left my room to see the commotion..."

"And?" Galinda gently prodded.

"When I entered the hallway, I saw Sir Chuffrey...he-he had Elphaba against the wall while his hand was pulling up her dress. Your lady's maid was trying to get away," Milla said, red blotches spreading across her cheeks.

Galinda felt herself pale as she retracted her hand. She was too mortified to speak. How could Sir Chuffrey embarrass her like this, in front of Milla?! She sat back, trying to take a deep breath. What type of behavior was this? _While his hand was pulling up her dress._ What reason would he ever have to—

"I'm sure there's an explanation for it, but the sight rather shocked me," Milla said.

"Of course—an explanation— yes—that's right—there must be an explanation," Galinda babbled, her mind racing. Perhaps Elphaba had said something offensive, _yet again_? Or...or...

"Could he have been trying to catch her? Perhaps she fell ill?" Galinda suggested, remembering Elphaba's fall with Fiyero.

"No, Sir Chuffrey was angry with her," Milla insisted, "but I'm sure it must have been minor. Otherwise he would have told you."

"Yes, of course," Galinda said, sliding her plate away from her.

They talked no more of Sir Chuffrey that afternoon. Instead, the cousins ended their lunch with a walk in the rose gardens, chatting about the not too distant Lurlinemas ball. They were about to walk back to the castle when Galinda asked if Milla wouldn't mind her staying behind. Her cousin nodded, kissing her cheek warmly before waving and skipping back to the castle.

Galinda meandered back through the gardens, stopping in front of the southern Pink Pavilion. Unlike the White Pavilion, it had an enclosed octagon sitting room, all the walls made of stained glass. Galinda opened the door, which was a portrait of the Kumbric Witch who was rumored to be queen of the spirits who haunted the Great Forest. Galinda entered, grateful for the familiar gray velvet tufted bench. Backless, it sat in the middle of the room. Round and plump, with a gold bulb trim and spindly wooden legs. It had always been the perfect instrument to do her best brooding. Besides the single bench, only a small bronze incense holder, in the shape of a lamp, hung from ceiling, pouring out its rosemary and cedar scent across the room.

Galinda laid down and curled herself over the bench's left scroll arm, gazing at the the other walls which depicted the Kumbric Witch's seven oracles for Gillikin. Her favorite wall portrayed a blonde woman whom Galinda always thought was quite beautiful, kneeling next to a discolored figure. When she was young, Galinda had assumed the scene depicted her grandmother pleading with a witch of the forest. But, now as she gazed at the stain-glassed couple, all she could see was herself and her troll of a lady's maid.

Oh, what did the High Constable do to Elphaba? Her mind returned like an ocean tide to Milla's story of Elphaba and Sir Chuffrey. What had she unwittingly agreed to when she consented to Sir Chuffrey's punishment of Elphaba? What hadn't he told her? Had he lied about wanting to protect Galinda? Could he still be angry with her lady's maid for her answer during supper a week ago? Galinda turned up her nose. A man who held grudges over small slights was a small man indeed.

Surely there had to be a good reason for his behavior. Galinda tried unsuccessfully for an hour to come up with an appropriate answer. Finding none, she laid on her back and closed her eyes.

She was quickly swept up in a dream in which Miss Clutch was pinned against the hallway by her father. He was pawing at her as she screamed for him stop. But, then it was Sir Chuffrey who was pinning her. And then it wasn't Miss Clutch anymore, it was Elphaba, squirming to get a way from Sir Chuffrey's wandering hands, but then they weren't his hands anymore. They were Galinda's. Galinda was fondling her lady's maid in the hallway as the creature was fighting to get away. Screaming for her to stop.

Galinda's eyes shot open as she sat up on the bench gasping for breath.

It couldn't be! It couldn't. She wasn't the same as Sir Chuffrey! Nor was she like her father! Not at all, not even a little. She always gave the monster a choice! And, Elphaba chose to stay. And, and, and—Elphaba enjoyed her touching, always came for her. Except for the last time. Elphaba had ran. So? What did that mean? Was she somehow similar to Sir Chuffrey? To her father? Galinda cringed.

Just then, the door to the Pavilion opened. Shell stood in the doorway, carrying a ladder, accompanied by a younger gardener, a Gillikinese peasant boy who wore a leather satchel from which hung a round silver tin.

"Princess," Shell said surprised and bowed low. The young servant mimicked Shell.

Galinda sighed. How did the gardener always stumble upon her private moments?

"Do you have business here?" she asked.

"We've come to refill the incense lamps," he said. Galinda looked up. The white smoke had all but evaporated. "But, we can return later if Your Royal Highness prefers?" With tight lips, Galinda shook her head. She didn't want to be bothered twice.

Shell and his assistant worked quickly. The Munchkinlander held the ladder as his young assistant crawled up and placed more cedar nibs and a hot ember from his silver box into the holder. The two were about to leave, when Shell had the younger boy go ahead of him, giving him his ladder.

"Your Royal Highness, might I have a word?" he asked by the doorway, when the boy had left.

Galinda hesitated, caught off guard by Shell's boldness. She was about to refuse him, when she remembered Sir Chuffrey's deceit. Two could play at that game.

"Whatever is the matter?" she asked in a sugary sweet voice.

Shell walked closer. Galinda rose and met him in the middle of the room. Her hands coming to feel his muscular biceps. The gardener's mouth parted, his dark eyes devouring her breasts. Those eyes. Their shape and color matched Elphaba's. Galinda imagined her lady's maid looking at her so and felt her cheeks go hot.

"I have a sister," Shell said, placing his eyes higher.

"Yes, we've been introduced," Galinda said in a smoky voice, smirking.

Shell smiled.

"I mean I have another sister, besides Elphaba," he said, staring into her eyes.

"Oh? Does she work in the castle as well?" Galinda asked. Could there be another green woman lurking about?

"No, my sister, Nessarose, stays in a cottage in the Great Gillikin Forest."

"The Great Gillikin Forest? But, it's haunted! How can she stand to live there?" Galinda asked shivering.

"Actually, the castle raids on the forest were what I wanted to talk about."

"Oh? But, I can't tell you anything about the raids or the dark fairies. I know little of them."

"It's not information on the fairies that I'm after. I want to protect my sister. She's lame from birth and—"

Galinda gasped. Shell's story was getting more grotesque with each passing moment. First the haunted forest, now monsters. She stilled her facial features to hide her disgust.

"When we came to Gillikin, Elphaba and I hid Nessarose in the forest. We've heard about Gillikinese superstitions of her condition. We hid her to keep her safe. But, now with the raids, I am afraid Nessarose will be found and harmed."

"I don't know what to say," Galinda said. What did a crippled Munchkin even look like? Were its legs green and twisted? Were its bones all out of joint? Did it have a shrunken head? Galinda thought she would vomit.

"I swear Nessarose is no harm to anyone. If we could bring her here—"

" _Here_?!" Galinda squealed, imagining the crippled beast, sitting in an iron cage in the corner of her bedroom. She clutched her hands at her chest and recoiled.

"Please. I know Your Royal Highness is compassionate," the gardener said. "If only she could live in the castle as a servant, I know she would be safe."

"But, it is not for me to decide who serves here," Galinda said, regretting that she had welcomed a conversation with Shell at all, "My father and his butler handle these matters."

"But, certainly, you could persuade them," Shell tried.

Galinda's shoulders tensed. What an assumption! To suggest she should convince her father to have a lame in the castle! Who did Shell think he was? She was about to tell him he had no right to ask such morbid things when she heard horses, her father's laughter, followed by Sir Chuffrey's voice just outside the pavillion. Her face whitened.

"We can't be seen together!" Galinda hissed.

"Why not? It was my task to change the incense holder," Shell said.

"With no ladder or incense?" Galinda whispered. "They won't believe us. I'll keep them away, but you must hide here until we're gone. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Your Royal Highness." Shell whispered, looking worried for her.

The Princess exited and closed the door behind her. The two men had stopped their horses, when her father noticed her and said,

"Galinda, my darling, whatever are you doing here?"

"I came for a nap, but I'm feeling awfully unwell. I'm so glad to see you both. I should have laid here for some time until someone should have found me," she said.

"Sir Chuffrey, I'm afraid we'll have to reschedule our discussion of the dark fairies. My dear little Galinda needs to be taken inside," her father said.

"Your Majesty, please let me," Sir Chuffrey said. "I'll have her back in no time."

"Very well," the King said.

"That's very kind of you," Galinda said, as Sir Chuffrey whisked her off her feet and planted her on his horse. As he spurred the horse to go, Galinda was relived to be leaving Shell and his tasteless conversation behind.

As soon as the three made it back to the castle, Sir Chuffrey helped Galinda down and carried her, sweeping up the castle staircases toward her room as the King ran behind. Galinda looked up at her betrothed. A bead of sweat trickled down his brow, his jaw set, his eyes focused. How could someone this handsome who supposedly cared deeply for her, put his hand under her lady's maid's dress? Were all grown men like this? Tender one moment, frightening the next. Galinda huffed.

"Are you okay, my dearest?" Sir Chuffrey asked, glancing down and then back up.

"Just tired," Galinda said, closing her eyes.

"What's happened, sir?" Crope asked, coming down the hallway.

"The Princess has taken ill. Get the razors and some towels and bowls!" Sir Chuffrey barked.

Galinda's eyes popped open. Nothing was worse than blood treatments!

"Please! I just need a little rest," Galinda said, gripping Sir Chuffrey's arm.

"Nonsense. You'll do as Sir Chuffrey says," the King said, behind the couple. "If you don't let the illness out, it'll only worsen. Now, hurry Crope!"

"Yes, Your Majesty," the servant said and sprinted down the hallway.

Entering Galinda's room, Sir Chuffrey held Galinda in one hand and tore back her sheets with the other. He laid her down and kissed her forehead.

"You'll be better soon, my dearest," he whispered.

Galinda nodded and let her face go loose, feigning tiredness, in hopes that Sir Chuffrey might wait outside. She needed a moment to gather herself, if she was to endure the blood-letting. Her act worked. Alone, Galinda stared at her wooden canopy ceiling and exhaled loudly. She didn't deserve this. She had only wanted to spite Sir Chuffrey a little. She never thought a conversation with Shell would mean being heckled for grotesque favors or being bled! And, _Nanny_ , that cow! She was so heavy-handed. She couldn't tell the difference between a pinprick and an amputation.

How had this normal day turned so horrible! Galinda was rubbing her temples, when the old woman and Crope entered. Nanny came to her right, armed with a long leather belt with holsters filled with razors of every size. Crope, holding a goblet filled with life water, came to her left and set the goblet on Galinda's bedside table.

"What can I do?" he asked Nanny.

"Just tend to the gentlemen outside while I clean the Princess," Nanny said and Crope nodded.

 _Rap! Rap!_

Galinda raised her neck. Perhaps her father had come to check on her? She might still talk him out of this!

But, as Crope opened her door, Elphaba entered. Who invited that creature?! Elphaba's arms were packed with bowls and towels, her expression pinching as she surveyed the room.

Galinda laid down and returned her gaze to the ceiling. Helping with bloodletting was a lady's maid's duty, but it was humiliating to be cut in front of her. How thrilling it must be for the monster to see her in pain. Well, she wouldn't cry. Not this time. Elphaba already found her lazy and stupid, she wouldn't add weak to the list.

Crope left and closed the door behind him, as Elphaba walked over to give her items to Nanny. The woman took them and then stripped Galinda down to her chemise, giving her the fiery life water, before she opened the belt and asked for Galinda's arm.

"Nanny, not too deep," Galinda instructed, feeling woozy from the alcohol.

"Of course, Your Royal Highness," Nanny said, pulling out a long thin razor with a hooked bill, "Now, Miss Thropp get on the other side of Her Royal Highness and hold the Princess down."

Elphaba standing at the foot of her bed, clutched her stomach, and didn't move an inch.

"What is this cutting supposed to do?" her lady's maid asked.

"It clears the humors. Didn't the Thropp family do the same?" Nanny asked. Elphaba shook her head. The Princess rolled her eyes.

"Shall we get on with it?" Galinda asked, not wanting to delay the inescapable.

"Yes, Your Royal Highness," Nanny said and looking at Elphaba, motioned to the bed with the knife.

Elphaba nodded, climbed up, and crawled toward Galinda. She stopped short of the Princess looking at her as if she might bite. _Of course._ The last time they had both been on this bed had been the night Galinda belted her.

"Miss Thropp!" Nanny commanded. "Hurry and hold the Princess' shoulders!"

Elphaba stayed rigid, her eyes lost in thought.

"You've permission to touch me!" Galinda raised her voice, hoping to speed Elphaba along.

The troll lurched forward, nodding, hands out, eyes worried, hatchet face descending. She clasped Galinda's shoulders in a soft grip, her warm breath brushing her forehead. Galinda expected Elphaba to snicker, not worry. She didn't need concern! She didn't want it, not from Elphaba...she didn't deserve it. Leave it to the creature to make her feel guilty at a time like this! Galinda's blond eyebrows furrowed. Elphaba noticed her frustration and looked more concerned, her thumbs brushing Galinda's shoulders. Galinda blushed at the gesture. Why must her stomach knot with each passing brush? They had been unclothed on this bed, touched in this bed, orgasmed in this bed. But that had all been proximate unintimacies. Galinda shifted her gaze to the corner of her canopy bed, anything to avoid Elphaba's eyes.

"Princess, shall I ready a towel for you to bite?" Nanny asked.

Galinda shook her head and the next second Nanny pressed the knife. Galinda inhaled sharply at the burning in her inner arm. How could her father allow this? She turned her head, trying to hide her pale face in a pillow.

"Hold her!" Nanny commanded, lifting the knife as Galinda rustled.

Elphaba forced Galinda's shoulders straight. Galinda glowered at her. The monster looked pained, her eyes round. _It's me who is suffering, not you! Don't look at me like that!_ Galinda thought and turned her neck.

The old woman pressed the razor to the same place again, but harder. Galinda bit her lip to keep from crying. But, Nanny dug. The pain absorbed Galinda's senses. Suddenly she heard the sound of her own voice, screaming.

"Are you finished?" Elphaba shouted to Nanny.

"Almost there," Nanny said, setting the knife down and pinching Galinda's cut. Galinda winced as Nanny caught her dripping blood in a bowl. "Only thrice more and we're through."

"What possible need is there to cut Her Royal Highness again?!" Elphaba argued. "This can't be doing the Princess any good."

Galinda didn't understand. Why did her suffering matter to Elphaba? The monster hated her.

 _I will never want you. I will never be yours. I will never love you._

Nanny didn't answer. She raised a thicker razor. Elphaba leaned closer and took Galinda's free hand that was extended by her side and placed it on her yellow dress over her bicep.

"Squeeze, when she cuts," Elphaba whispered.

Galinda felt a blush run up her neck. She wrenched her hand and hissed,

"I don't need your pi—"

"It's not," her lady's maid interrupted and grabbed Galinda's hand and pressed it back down. "It's not _pity_. It will end faster if Your Royal Highness is not rolling about." Elphaba voice was harsh, but her eyes were tender. She was trying to save Galinda a bit of dignity. The soft look made Galinda's breath stop. She waited for Elphaba's kind veneer to evaporate. But the creature's gaze never changed. Nanny cut again. Galinda squeezed her eyes shut and clutched Elphaba's arm, her fingers sinking into the thin muscle, her mouth opening to a soundless cry. She pulled Elphaba close, very close, until her mouth was right over hers, her bony ribs pressing into her stomach.

"Stop. Please, make it stop," Galinda whimpered. Was that sharp voice hers? She opened her eyes to see Elphaba's worried eyes watching her face. Their lips close to touching. Galinda blushed. Elphaba saw her. Not the strong Princess of Gillikin, but the terrified and needy Arduenna girl. Galinda wanted to hide, but Nanny continued to saw and she could only cling to the creature, grateful for the weight of her body and the strong scent of her oils that covered the smell of Nanny's disinfectant.

Elphaba turned her head and hissed,

"Isn't that enough? Can't you stop?"

"The King won't allow it," Nanny said and pinched Galinda's second wound.

"Ah!" Galinda gasped.

Nanny took out a slightly fatter blade.

Galinda shook her head.

"Do you have the Princess?" Nanny asked.

"Wait," Elphaba said and propped herself up. Galinda released Elphaba, only to wrap her arm around Elphaba's neck. Her lady's maid looked at her nervously. Galinda pulled Elphaba back down and tucked her head into her green neck, breathing hotly against her collar bone. Nanny cut. Tears rolled from Galinda's eyes. Her head going lighter and lighter. Her screams had turned into hoarse moans as blood rivulets poured down her extended arm.

"I can't! No more!" Galinda rasped, her vision blurring. "I shall faint."

"Only once more, Your Royal Highness," Nanny said.

The Princess felt the blade tear into her and she pressed her face into Elphaba's shoulder, her eyes squeezing tighter as she tried to hide from the throbbing. A beautiful melody sounded. She tried to focus on the silky notes while her arm whistled with pain. The melody was so beautiful it must be a celestial spirit, no, the heavenly Lurline herself! Nanny, the old bat, managed to kill her! Galinda was leaving Oz behind for a greater glory.

"It's finished Your Royal Highness," Nanny said, breaking Galinda's fantasy. "I'll dress the cuts."

Galinda eyes fluttered open. Elphaba was humming. It wasn't a celestial voice after all; it was a troll's. Their bodies were still pressed together. Elphaba's eyes cinched shut. The monster must hate being this close. On this bed, of all places.

 _I will never be yours._

The creature was humming to calm _herself_ , not Galinda. Embarrassed, Galinda quickly released her grip and turned her head. She felt Elphaba rise and missed the warmth of her lady's maid's body immediately, but she wouldn't look up. She didn't want to see Elphaba's tender gaze return to its usual contempt. She didn't want to see the warm emotion that looked so much like sincere concern be revealed to be nothing more than hollow duty.

"Elphaba, open the door," Nanny commanded. When the door opened, the old woman announced loudly to the men outside, "It's finished." Nanny and Elphaba exited, carrying her bowls of blood and Sir Chuffrey and her father rushed in, flanking Galinda's bed.

"My darling, dearest, the worst is over," her betrothed said, kneeling. If Galinda had any strength in her, she would have rolled her eyes—it was _his_ fault she had to endure this at all—but since she could barely stay awake she merely nodded.

"Do you need anything, my little Galinda?" the King asked. Galinda shook her head ever so slightly and closed her eyes.

When she opened them again, the men were gone and Nanny was shaking her awake for supper, a cup of water to her lips. Galinda took a sip and without thinking asked,

"Where's the creature?"

"Downstairs preparing new sheets to dress Your Royal Highness' bed. Sir Chuffrey didn't think you should see her face right after your treatment. He was worried the sight of Miss Thropp might make your illness return."

Galinda could tell by Nanny's tone that the old woman thought Sir Chuffrey an idiot. Just a few days ago, Galinda would have been cross at the woman's attitude. Today Galinda could only sympathize.

Nanny pulled back the covers and Galinda stood up. The room swung like a pendulum. She reached out and leaned on Nanny, as the old woman dressed and jeweled her, throwing her about. An hour later and Galinda was eating supper with Sir Chuffrey and her father in the banquet hall. The two peppered her with questions, asking if she rested enough, if she needed a bath, if she should skip supper. After several minutes of convincing them she would be fine, the men left her alone and entered an extremely boring conversation about a new Wizard who was gaining notoriety all over Oz.

The men debated if the Wizard ran more than a carnival, if he was a threat to Gillikin, if they should try and end his carnival career. With the insipid table conversation, and Milla taking dinner in her room, Galinda was more than eager to finish supper early. By dessert, she asked to be excused. Her father agreed, kissing her forehead, and telling her to take some rest.

Galinda nodded, but instead of heading to her room, she walked toward the castle entrance that let out to the gardens. She needed to clear her mind about her lady's maid.

As she made her way down the halls, she kept thinking of her dream from earlier. The dream where her actions with the creature were comparable to her father's. Elphaba's troubled face flashed in her mind. That scared expression she had when Galinda played with her breast when they first met. Galinda never gave her lady's maid a chance. She hated her before she arrived. She hated her because she replaced the person whom she had loved dearly. And, then she hated the creature even more when she learned she was a Munchkinlander— a deformed one. Anyone would have despised her, wouldn't they have? But, Milla hadn't. Milla actually liked the Munchkinlanders. And, Fiyero hadn't hated her either. He had confessed feelings for her lady's maid. Oh, why couldn't Galinda just feel nothing! Wanting her made Galinda feel weak and stupid. But, now hating her had become painful too.

Galinda was halfway down the grand white stone steps lit by billowing oil lanterns when she spotted Elphaba and Shell at the bottom of the stairs. They appeared to be arguing about something. Her lady's maid had her back to her. She seemed different. With her voice raised, hands in the air, she reminded Galinda of the night she had refused her. _How can you be so selfish, so remorseless?_ The memory made Galinda's stomach twist.

"You don't even know her! You have no idea what you've done! How could you tell her! How could you!" Elphaba shrilled. Galinda took another step toward them and Shell who faced her direction, glanced up and noticed the Princess. He fell to his knee.

"Good evening, Princess," he said loudly. Elphaba whipped around. Her eyes going wide before she bowed her head and closed her mouth. Seeing the siblings together, Galinda realized despite her initial impression there was a resemblance— their thick black hair, dark eyes, strong jaw line, high cheekbones. Without that distracting green skin, Elphaba might have been handsome, perhaps even more handsome than her brother. Galinda curled her lip at her thoughts.

"Princess, good evening. My sister and I wanted to talk with you about our conversation we had earlier in the garden?" Shell said, still on his knee.

"We want no such thing, Your Royal Highness!" Elphaba shrieked, her face darkening.

Galinda would not visit that morbid conversation— _ever_. One Thropp woman wreaking havoc in her life was more than enough. There was no need for a second monster in the castle. Thank Oz Elphaba felt the same! Shell misinterpreted Galinda's silence for confusion.

"Our conversation about Nessarose, Princess," he added.

"Shell! Stop! You don't know what you're doing!" Elphaba yelled.

"Stop speaking for me Elphaba!" he said. "The Princess and I know one another. We're friends."

Galinda felt the blood leave her face. _Friends?!_ Her and the gardener? Had he lost his mind?!

Horrified, Elphaba looked back and forth between a stubborn Shell and a shocked Princess.

"Shell," Galinda choked. "I think its best if you listened to your sister."

His bushy eyebrows rose.

"But, I thought—" he started.

"Bother me no further and go back to your quarters for tonight!" Galinda commanded, annoyed that the servant thought to argue.

Shell didn't move. He searched her face, wanting another answer. Before Galinda could repeat herself. A voice sounded behind her.

"I told you to stay away! How dare you bother the Princess again!" Sir Chuffrey yelled. Galinda turned to see the High Constable flying down the stairs. He glided past her, heading right toward Shell.

"Sir Chuffrey!" Galinda said, running after him. But, the High Constable ignored her and moved for the gardener who had stood up.

With an agile side-step, Elphaba moved in front of her brother.

"Get out of my way, monster!" Sir Chuffrey hissed, breathing hard, his skin red, stopping a pace in front of her, with Galinda behind him.

"She's not a monster!" Shell yelled.

Elphaba didn't budge. She stood there, still as stone, lips pursed, eyes hard. Anyone would have thought she was unafraid of Sir Chuffrey. Anyone except for Galinda who saw her squeeze her dress in her hands.

"Don't think I won't hit you, foul creature. Move!"

When Elphaba didn't, Sir Chuffrey raised his fist and Galinda did it. She swung herself between the two.

POUND!

With a yelp, Galinda fell, clutching her cheek.

"Princess!" Shell yelled behind Elphaba.

"Galinda!" Sir Chuffrey said and dashed to her side, but Galinda raised her hand.

"Just don't!" Galinda said.

Galinda looked over at a shocked-silent Elphaba. The creature gaped at her, eyes blinking, mouth open. With annoyance, Galinda gestured with her eyes for her lady's maid to help. Elphaba whooshed down and came by Galinda's side, placing Galinda's arm around her neck so she could stand. The gardener looked as if he wanted to help but Galinda was grateful he kept his distance in front of Sir Chuffrey.

"Shell, go to your quarters!'" Galinda ordered.

The gardener frowned, but he didn't argue. He bowed and ran for the servant's quarters.

"Galinda, my dearest, I never wanted to hit you," Sir Chuffrey tried again.

"Please, Sir Chuffrey, leave me tonight. My lady's maid will help me to my room."

"But—"

"I'm fine!" Galinda said, and left the man standing there, glaring furiously at Elphaba as she helped Galinda up the stairs.

When the women got to Galinda's room, Elphaba closed the door. Galinda touched the reddish lump on her cheek, examining it in her vanity mirror. Its sharp zinging ran through her cheekbone, down her jaw, and wrapped around her teeth. It felt like Sir Chuffrey cracked her face. Why had she protected her lady's maid? The creature should have took the beating. Sir Chuffrey warned her. He had given her time to move. So why did she interfere? Galinda sighed. Somehow it didn't seem right. The two Munchkinlanders hadn't bothered her; _she_ had interrupted them. And, the troll was only trying to protect her brother. An action Galinda would do for Milla in a heartbeat. Oh! Was she honestly comparing the creature's motivations with her own?!

Elphaba came behind her, eyeing her in the mirror. This was a new expression. Her lady's maid's eyes glimmered with what seemed like appreciation. An appreciation that felt too embarrassing to receive. It would mean Galinda _intended_ to protect the troll, an intention that signaled more than mere lust.

"I slipped!" Galinda said, "I wasn't trying to defend you. I just slipped on the stairs."

Elphaba stared at the Princess askance. Her lips pursing briefly before they resigned into a straight line.

Swallowing, the creature said, "Of course, Your Royal Highness."

Galinda couldn't tell if Elphaba was relieved or disappointed. But, it didn't matter. She didn't care. She didn't care one nit about Elphaba, not at all. Galinda repeated the thought like a chant, as her lady's maid readied her for bed. Her hands carefully removing Galinda's wounded arm from her dress and smock. The Princess was grateful for the gentleness. Before supper Nanny had whipped her around, claiming the faster they finished, the faster the pain would be over. More than once Galinda had yelped for Nanny to be careful.

When Galinda was in nothing more than her chemise, Elphaba pointed to her cheek and said,

"Your Royal Highness should ice it or it shall swell."

"You mean swell worse than it already has," Galinda muttered tiredly, staring at her hands, "I'm afraid I'll have to stay unsightly for a bit. I can't bear Nanny tonight. She's sure to be full of questions, not to mention that hand of hers. I suppose I was lucky that only my _darling_ Sir Chuffrey punched me and not old iron fist."

Elphaba snorted a laugh. Galinda glanced up through her eyelashes. Elphaba was grinning at her.

She had joked with the creature! Joked like she would with Milla. What was wrong with her? Galinda covered her mouth and whirled around.

"I could apply the ice," her lady's maid in a low voice that gave Galinda goosebumps.

"Ha!" Galinda said, "You and ice? I think we know how that would end."

Galinda returned to goading, but her voice sounded too pathetic to be mean. Instead, her words had a tone of casual intimacy. Could the creature sense her nervousness? Galinda bit her lip, her cheeks flushing. "You're dismissed!" she said.

It took a moment before Elphaba shuffled toward the door. Once it closed shut, Galinda fell at her vanity, her forehead on her arms as she tried to breathe. Her feelings were silly, stupid things, and now they were ruining her. What had she done? Sir Chuffrey was sure to be annoyed with her tomorrow, when the shock of hitting her wore away.

A knock sounded at her bedroom door.

Had he come to talk tonight? Galinda's heart raced. She couldn't face the man at this hour. She would just have to pretend to be asleep. She crept over to her bed, slid in silently, and hid beneath the covers.

 _KNOCK. KNOCK._

Galinda held her breath. This was ridiculous! She was hiding in her own castle.

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

How dogged that man was! She sat up and shouted,

"Come in!"

When Elphaba walked through the door, holding a pail, Galinda's eyes grew. "Why did you come back?" she blurted.

Closing the door, Elphaba held up her pail and said,

"I brought ice."

Galinda felt a warmth spread through her. She was not used to kindness, not after Miss Clutch left, and especially not from servants who hated her.

"I'm sure I told you I didn't want any ice from _you_!"

From her apron pocket, Elphaba took out a kitchen towel and a pair of wool gloves, the gloves Galinda used to make her wear.

"These should help," her lady's maid said. "May I try?"

Galinda was speechless. Clearing her throat, she said,

"I-I suppose since you insisted on waking me up."

Elphaba nodded and made her way to Galinda's bed. She set the pail on Galinda's bedside table and slipped on the gloves and toweled the ice shard. Holding it, she turned toward Galinda and waited, her posture tentative, her narrow black-brown eyes unsure. Galinda knew she shouldn't. She shouldn't give in to this, not when she was trying to rid herself of her feelings for the creature. But she was tired. Oh, so tired.

"You may," she conceded and Elphaba leaned closer.

The next afternoon in Galinda's room, Sir Chuffrey's mouth was like shears, cutting up her sentences. "You have feelings for him!" he accused.

"Don't be ridiculous! I just don't care for the sight of blood! It doesn't mean—"

"Yet, you were willing to be bloodied yourself!"

"I didn't know how to stop you from—"

"Prove it to me! Prove you don't have any feelings for him!"

"How can—"

"Let me punish them both!"

"What makes them deserving—"

"For not doing as they were told! For making me wound you!"

"Fine. I can withhold their pay for a week," Galinda gave in.

"No! They need something more severe, something that will make sure they'll never bother you again."

"Like what?"

Sir Chuffrey leaned closer and whispered in her ear. Galinda gasped, her cheeks going bright red. How could he even imagine something so abhorrent! As he continued, Galinda felt her stomach sour.

A couple hours later, she sat alone in the Green Gallery, curled up on bench next to a tall tracery window after her evening prayers. What kind of man was Sir Chuffrey to suggest such a thing? She refused, but he threatened to call off the engagement. He accused her, saying if she didn't go through with the punishment, then she must be in love with Shell. Thankfully Sir Chuffrey hadn't accused her of feelings for Elphaba. Her denials wouldn't have been nearly so convincing. But, she was still in trouble. She had until late evening. Either she would help with the punishment or she would end their engagement.

The punishment seemed wretched and yet maybe it wasn't so different from the inspections she performed on Elphaba herself? Maybe Elphaba would survive it? Maybe it wasn't as bad as she first thought? Galinda wished it so, staring at the stars above the Great Gilliken Forest in the distance.

That evening Elphaba came to undress her and brought another ice shard. Galinda sat in her chemise on her bed, the covers pulled over her breasts. Her lady's maid applied the cold towel gently to Galinda's bruised face. How could Galinda return this kindness with cruelty? She stared at her lady's maid slender face across from her until Elphaba raised an eyebrow. Galinda looked away, afraid Elphaba could see through her.

"Princess?"

"Yes?" Galinda said

"I wonder if I might ask a favor," Elphaba said.

"A favor?" Galinda asked, looking up.

"My brother told you a story about my younger sister," Elphaba said and Galinda's stomach flopped. Not the lame monster again!

"I want to ask if Your Royal Highness could forget it. Forget he mentioned anything and please don't mention her to Sir Chuffrey."

It was as if Elphaba punched her. Now Galinda understood. All of Elphaba's sweetness, her gentleness, her kindness was a ruse to get her to agree to this. The creature didn't have any real compassion for her. How could she? Galinda had been more than unkind to her.

"I don't see any reason to ever talk about the subject again," she said honestly.

Elphaba smiled, bowed her head and said,

"Thank you, Your Royal Highness."

When Sir Chuffrey came by an hour later, Galinda had no choice. She couldn't risk her future, because of some silly feelings for a servant. She told Sir Chuffrey she would do it.

"We shall prepare your lady's maid here and then go to the gardens," he told Galinda, grinning. She nodded, not saying another word.

The next morning, Elphaba dressed her, taking the greatest care to never jerk her weak arm. Each soft touch only made Galinda feel worse. She couldn't bear for Elphaba to continue with her jewels. She walked over to her vanity, staring at her shaking hands and said,

"You're dismissed!"

That evening Sir Chuffrey came to her room carrying a reclining purple velvet bench-chair with large wooden armrests from his room. It's wide seat could snugly fit two. Its back sat a 145 degree angle, making the chair perfect for reading or napping. He placed it the middle of her room. After he left, Galinda laid four maroon silk cords on her bed and prepared two large pitchers of water. When Elphaba came in that evening to undress her, her brown eyes immediately went to the chair. She walked toward it and asked,

"Can I help Your Royal Highness with something?"

Galinda who stood behind it, holding one of the pitchers secretly behind the chair back, looked at the floor and said flatly, "Undress and lay on the chair."

"What?" Elphaba whispered, hesitating before she stuttered, "B-but, I thought that was over. Your Royal Highness was different. I—"

"Just do as I say and undress!" Galinda said still looking down.

"No, I can't. I won't," she said.

Galinda looked up to see Elphaba, her chin raised, her eyebrows flexed, looking both distressed and defiant.

"Please. Don't make this more difficult," Galinda whispered.

Elphaba cocked her head. "Your Royal Highness doesn't want this? But, then, why? Why would you ask me to..."

Galinda longed to say it, to confess Sir Chuffrey's dirty little plan, admit how much she loathed him, apologize for how she treated Elphaba, beg her to start their relationship over. But she was the Princess of Gillikin, she was supposed to live happily ever after! She couldn't throw her life away for a monster who would never love her in return.

"Silence!" Galinda shouted. "A servant does not say what she will or won't do. Now undress before I make you really suffer!"

Elphaba jumped at the change of tone, but straightened and said,

"No, Your Royal Highness! I will not!"

"My, my, you really think you can defy me," Galinda said and with a flash she tossed the pitcher of water at her lady's maid who gasped and raised her arms. It drenched her and she shriveled to the floor as Galinda expected. The Princess' heart hammered in her chest as she hurried to her door and knocked three times. Sir Chuffrey who waited on the other side entered. Eyeing her lady's maid, he said,

"Who knew that the beast of Munchkinland became such a dirty little whore when bathed?"

Elphaba looked up. Her eyes going wide as she saw the High Constable in his red military uniform, her head shaking back and forth, as she wrapped her arms around her chest.

"Did you get the rope?" Sir Chuffrey asked Galinda who closed the door.

"It's on the bed," Galinda muttered, not moving from the spot by the door. Elphaba's face went a pale moss-green.

"Come here, you little slut," he called to Elphaba and Galinda cringed. Her lady's maid tried to slither away from the High Constable, but he rushed and sat on her. Galinda couldn't look as she heard him rip Elphaba's clothes. Her buttons flying across the floor. Her lady's maid screamed for him to stop, but he didn't. He didn't stop until she wore nothing at all. Then he used pieces of Elphaba's own garment to gag her, forcing them into her mouth, and tying a silk rope over the fabric, between her lips, and around her head. He flung her naked body on the chair, smacking her head against the tall back. Galinda turned to see a weak naked Elphaba laying on the chair, struggling as Sir Chuffrey twisted and tied her green arms behind the chair back. He came around front and grabbed her ankles, pushing them up toward her buttocks, tying her ankles and knees to the arm rests. Last he squeezed her tiny breasts pulling them upward as she groaned into her gag. He kept them up with one arm, while he slid a silk rope underneath and scooted around to fasten the rope around the chair. He stood up behind Elphaba and said.

"Now that was easy, wasn't it?"

Galinda's mouth was ajar. Sir Chuffrey was worse than her father. He had smiled as he fought Elphaba, tittered as he tied her. Torturing her gave him a thrill. All Galinda could do was stare at her lady's maid, who looked down at her naked self. She lay there bare, gagged, bound, arms behind her back, knees up, thighs spread wide, her womanhood opened like a flower, exposed for anyone to see.

"I bet you're wet already, aren't you?" the High Constable asked Elphaba.

Elphaba's eyes seethed, her body still quivering from the water. He grabbed her chin and wrenched it upward.

"I asked you a question," he hissed.

Gagged, Elphaba could only glare.

"I can't hear you?" he said smiling.

Her lady's maid's eyes hardened. He chuckled, and walked around and leaned over and laughed at her, before he slapped her, his palm clapping against Elphaba's face so loud Galinda flinched.

"That's for for making me hit Galinda last night," he said. Elphaba face fell to the side.

"Now, my dearest," he said turning to Galinda, "it's time to get the gardener."

Elphaba's head snapped up, Sir Chuffrey's handprint on her cheek. She shook her head. A horrified look in her eyes as she stared at Galinda. She groaned loudly, a plea to leave her brother out of this. Sir Chuffrey turned back and said,

"If you moan one word when he comes in, I shall cut his throat in front of you," he said and tapped the knife sheathed on his military uniform.

Aghast, Galinda's horror of Sir Chuffrey wound her tight like a doll. All she could do was follow behind him out the door, leaving a tied and terrified Elphaba to lay and wait.

When the two Gillikinese arrived at the outside servant's quarters, Galinda did as Sir Chuffrey advised. Carrying a valet's uniform in a velvet bag on her shoulder, she asked a young servant boy who was standing by the outside fire pit to fetch Shell. The Munchkinlander come out from a nearby shack, grinning.

"Princess! I have been worried about Your Royal Highness since last night."

Clutching her trembling hands behind her back, she said,

"I wanted to apologize to you."

"Apologize? But, it is I who troubled Your Royal Highness."

"I wasn't able to properly receive you like I wanted to last night. I was afraid that Sir Chuffrey would find out how I feel about you," she said, aware of the High Constable hiding in a nearby bush.

"Feel about me? What do you mean?" he asked.

"Do you think we might go somewhere more private?" she asked.

Shell didn't hesitate to take her to a more secluded bench in the gardens. When they reached it, Galinda said in a nervous tone,

"You see I've been thinking on you, Shell."

"You have?" he asked.

"Too much to be proper," she said and the gardener swallowed hard. "But, you know I am to marry Sir Chuffrey."

Shell nodded, his grin falling like mud down a pig's snout.

"But, I can't marry him without knowing what it might have been like to be loved by you," she said. "Do you want to love me?"

He licked his lips.

"Yes, Princess, I do," he confessed.

"Would you love me tonight?" she asked.

Shell looked so nervous he might faint.

"Tonight?" he repeated in a high-pitch.

Galinda nodded.

"I can. If you want me to," he said.

"I've brought some clothes for you, so you can enter the castle and come to my room. Here," she said handing him the velvet bag. "It's a valet's uniform for you to change into."

Shell changed behind a bush and followed Galinda as she ushered him toward a rarely used entrance into the castle. Galinda saw Sir Chuffrey run ahead of her as planned, but Shell hadn't seen a thing. He was so trusting as he followed her down the bedroom hallway upstairs. Galinda entered the dark guest room Fiyero had used and pulled Shell inside. Sir Chuffrey was already hidden behind the drapes.

"Before we enter my bedroom, I need you to do some things for me," Galinda said.

"Anything, just tell me and I shall do it."

"You see I've never been with a man before and I'm afraid to give myself to you." Galinda said.

"I won't hurt you, Princess" Shell said. "I promise to be gentle."

"All the same, I would prefer if you covered your eyes," Galinda said and raised a padded leather eye mask.

"Of course," Shell said and kneeled so Galinda could tie it on him.

"And, I'll need to fix your hands behind your back."

"You mean bind my hands?" Shell asked blindfolded, standing up.

"So I can feel safe with you. I've never been in a bedroom with a man alone."

"As you wish, Princess," Shell said and crossed his hands behind his back. Galinda walked around and as she did Sir Chuffrey crept out next to her. She was not allowed to touch Shell. Per Sir Chuffrey's orders, she could only watch as the High Constable tied Shell's hands tight.

"There," Galinda said, coming round to face Shell while Sir Chuffrey snuck out into the hallway to make sure it was clear.

"But how shall I be able to—," Shell stopped, blushing.

"Don't worry. I shall undo your trousers once I take you to my room," Galinda said and Shell's cheeks grew even darker. "When I get to my room, I shall undress until I am only in silk nightgown and lay on a bench for you. I'm afraid I'm very shy. I don't think I shall be able to talk to you once we enter the bedroom. I shall probably only be able to murmur to you. And you must promise me one thing."

"Whatever it is, I promise you."

"You must never kiss me. Not even once!"

"I won't," Shell said. "If you don't want me to."

"Now, then, will you follow the sound of my voice and lay yourself on top of me?"

"Won't I hurt you, if I must lean on you and not use my arms?"

Galinda hesitated. Run, Shell, run! Get away from me. Take Elphaba. Leave the castle. Run away.

"Princess?" he repeated, unable to see her.

"No," she murmured to Shell, "No matter how I cry out or move underneath you. I want to feel all of you. Just as you are. Will you do this for me?"

Shell gulped.

"Whatever you wish, Your Royal Highness."

Sir Chuffrey entered Galinda's room first. He was to go in and throw a silk scarf soaked in Galinda's perfume over Elphaba's naked body and brandish his military knife to keep her silent. When Galinda brought Shell in the dark room, Sir Chuffrey was standing next to her Elphaba, knife in hand. Her lady's maid's eyes widened when she saw her brother, she shook her head wildly, but didn't make a sound. There was no turning back. Galinda walked behind Elphaba, and called for Shell to come near. Blind, with his hands behind his back, he walked slowly, one foot in front of the other, until his knees hit the bench. Galinda wet a towel in the second pitcher. She raised Elphaba's head and set the wet cloth around her neck. Her lady's maid froze then quivered, her nipples tightening under the see-through silk.

"I will untie you now," Galinda said to Shell, but stayed where she was. Sir Chuffrey walked to Shell and untied his pants, pulling them down, so his thick manhood popped out. Galinda had never seen a man beside her father before. She was surprised at Shell's rising length and girth and the curly black hair around his heavy sack.

"Come closer," she said and Elphaba began to writhe and struggle. Galinda couldn't tell if it was the water or her fear. Sir Chuffrey raised a knife behind her brother's head and Elphaba went still as Shell kneeled on the chair-bench. He walked on his knees toward his sister.

"Lean forward," Galinda whispered.

Shell leaned until his manhood poked the edge of the silk scarf on Elphaba's stomach. Shell mouth opened, as as he felt his sister's body squirm against his hardness.

"Lower," Galinda said.

Shell moved his knees farther apart, arched his hips as he pulled his manhood past his sister's navel, across her straight black hair and toward her wet opening

"Enter me," Galinda said and Shell pushed the tip of himself in.

"I want all of you," Galinda said.

Shell smiled and leaned until he fell on his sister. His manhood filled her. Her hips rose sharply. His chin brushed the side of her sister's forehead. He bucked, moving his hips back and forth.

Galinda trembled at the sight. It couldn't be bad as it looked. The troll would never be loved by anyone. No one would ever touch her like this. So what did it matter if Shell did? They weren't having sex. Monsters couldn't have sex. Her lady's maid couldn't feel, not like a real woman could. If no man would ever get any use out of her, perhaps this was a favor.

What a pitiful lie. A man had wanted to love her. Fiyero had wanted Elphaba and Galinda had squashed any chance of it.

Shell pumped in and out as Elphaba struggled. Galinda felt her supper rise back up. Watching them, didn't feel at all like her inspections. Forcing Elphaba to enjoy pleasure against her will had been intoxicating for a while, but forcing Elphaba to endure something painful felt horrible. Galinda wanted to stop the pain. So she wet another towel, and squatted down and rubbed Elphaba's arms with the wet cloth. Elphaba's hands clenched, her hips thrusting upward as Shell moaned. The siblings gyrated back and forth against each other. Galinda stood and could no longer tell if Elphaba was thrashing to get free or to rub against her brother. After what seemed close to half an hour, her lady's maid went limp. She no longer protested. In a few more minutes, Shell gave a deep groan and lay flat. Sweat dripping down his back.

"Princess," Shell whispered and pulled his chest off of his sister, using all his strength to prop himself on his knees, "Are you all right? I didn't hurt you, did I? Will you let me see you now?"

Sir Chuffrey ripped off Shell's blindfold and roared with laughter. The blood left Shell's face. He leaned back and fell off the chair, he rolled on the floor trying to get up, his manhood shrinking. Sir Chuffrey laughed louder. He pulled Shell to his feet. The gardener's mouth opened and closed in shock. Elphaba kept her face turned away, her eyes on the floor.

"Elphaba?! But, how...how..." he whispered confused. His eyes found Galinda in the dark behind the chair. She held his frightened gaze for a moment, before she looked down. Her cheeks heating with shame.

"Princess!" he said.

"Don't you dare call for her!" Sir Chuffrey yelled, "Let this be a lesson. This is what happens to uppity Munchkinlanders in Gillikin."

Shell shook his head, his hands still tied behind his back, his wet cock hanging out of his pants.

"Shall we have your sister clean you with her mouth. Or would you like to leave?" Sir Chuffrey asked, opening the bedroom door.

Shell's eyes darted to Elphaba with her hands tied behind her, mouth gagged, legs parted, her green womanhood leaking with his excitement. She was bared for the whole room to see. That jostling, that whimpering, that wetness. It had been his older sister. His manhood started to harden against his will.

"Look at him. He seems to love his sister quite a bit. Did she make a man out of you?" Sir Chuffrey said, laughing. Shell shook his head, and turned, his prick flopping as he ran from the room. Sir Chuffrey closed the door behind him and walked toward Elphaba, Galinda assumed to untie her. But he stopped a few feet in front of her lady's maid, and loosened the strings around his trousers, and said,

"Now, shall I show you what a _real_ man feels like between your legs?"

Galinda lunged in front of her lady's maid.

"What are you doing?!" she asked.

"Move!" Sir Chuffrey said coming close.

"No! You mentioned Shell, not this!" Galinda said, "Leave right now or I'll scream for all the castle to hear." Sir Chuffrey's stance had Galinda caterpillaring backward, her hands pressed against his chest.

"Are you jealous of me jollying your servant? She's an animal, Galinda, and I'm going to show her that. Trust me, I'll make sure she doesn't enjoy it and it doesn't change how I feel about you," he said.

He had no idea how Galinda felt.

"Leave!" Galinda said. "Now!"

Chuffrey snorted

"Fine. I will allow you this outburst before our marriage," he said, tying his pants, "but don't think I'll accept your tantrums afterward." He grabbed his jacket and left the room, slamming the door behind him.

Galinda turned to Elphaba. The Munchkinlander's eyes were glazed as if her soul left her body. Her cheeks were wet with tears. Galinda had never seen Elphaba cry, not when she made her strip, not when she inspected her, not even when she belted her. She bent down and worked the ropes, untying Elphaba and finally pulling the gag from her mouth. She expected Elphaba to scream, curse, or hit her—anything but close her mouth and lay there. But the Munchkinlander didn't budge, didn't even blink.

"Elphaba," Galinda said, the name sounding foreign in her mouth, "Elphaba, you're dismissed. You're free to go," she said, shaking her lightly. "Elphaba," she said again and shook her harder. The Munchkinlander rose and Galinda backed away. She waited for her to react. Needed the Munchkinlander to react, to punish her, to relieve her of this unbearableness, but her lady's maid floated out the door, like an apparition. Leaving Galinda to drown in her sins.

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 **A/N:** Still with me?


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N:** Dear Lovely Readers,

It was so nice to receive all your support and hear that you are still with me! I was nervous to leave you with such a dark chapter! I know it was difficult to read as it was also difficult to write. It was fascinating to read through your various feelings about Galinda—some of you understood the horrors of her world and how her character had been shaped by them; others expected her to rise above her situation, at least when it concerned such a heinous act and considering her previous cruelty; still others found fault with Shell's naiveness. I really enjoyed all your different insights and feelings. Thanks so much for sharing them with me! This next chapter is lighter. However, **there are still references to the act in the previous chapter and this chapter has its own share of violence**.

* * *

She didn't remember how she got to the lake. One moment Nanny was rushing her into the servant's closet, cooing to her, removing Galinda's scarf. Tucking her bare dormant body in a plain white dress. Wrapping a wool mantle around her. Telling her to take some leave. The next moment, Elphaba was deep in the forest. The snow had come early. Each November flake fell like a sliver, a little thorn slicing her, sending lewd quivers through her. Deeper and deeper into the forest she tumbled, gathering stones yet untouched by winter and stuffing them into her dress pocket. Her feet stopped at the lakeshore. All that water. If she jumped in, the shock ought to knock her unconscious before she felt anything. She could slip away. So she slipped. The water swallowed her hips, lips, frozen gums and icicle nose. Her breath wrinkled inside her. Until unbearable pressure gave way to lightness of being. A silent peace. What an unexpected tender midwife death was. Ushering her toward light, warm, warm soothing light.

Then pain— lots of pain, up her lungs, out her nose, through her mouth. A wheezing-wooping pain and those horrible tickles up, down, and through her crevices. Strong hands and warm blankets. Her father. He had found her. He took her out of the water, to her room in Colwen Grounds. Folded her into bed. Lit the fireplace. He would always take care of her—always—except he was dead.

Where was she? She was incredibly warm, sweating even. Elphaba forced her eyes open. Walls of hickory beige surrounded her. She was in a cabin. A small one. Was she still in the Forest? Whose house was this? A stone fireplace sat across from her, an ashy log crackled at the bottom. A pot was hanging from a metal rod over the fire. Beside the fireplace was a linen-covered window, through which cool air blew and dim dusk light fell. In the middle of the room was a small wooden table with no chairs. On the walls were small shelves, holding a couple of books, wooden carvings, candles, and jars of food. At the end of the bed, by her feet, was a pile of chopped wood and beside the wood, a ladder that led to what appeared to be a narrow loft.

Elphaba lay on a low wooden bed, atop a straw mattress, covered in a bear skin blanket. She lifted the blanket. Green. Green. Green. She was completely naked. At the sight of her body, she heard a constable's laugh, felt silk cords tightening around her wrists, smelt her brother's sweat. Bile floated up and pushed her heart into her throat. She dropped the blanket, pinning it under her arms. Who had stripped her? Where were her clothes? What were they planning to do to her? Elphaba turned to look behind her and saw a wooden door, with two wooden hooks, a black military coat hung on one. A soldier stayed here. A Gillikinese solider.

The door handle jostled. Someone was coming. Elphaba surveyed the room. There was no where to hide. The door opened and she saw red. That wretched red military uniform of Sir Chuffrey, as he came through the door, carrying a dead rabbit in one hand and a crossbow in the other, stamping his feet, snow flaking off his trousers and boots. Elphaba trembled, fear closing her throat. How had he found her? Where had he taken her? What did he plan to do to her?

The High Constable set down his crossbow in the corner of the room, and turned, taking a step toward the stove when he noticed she was awake.

"Ah, so the sleeping artichoke has awoken. I suppose you're hungry after that exhausting two-day nap," he said, setting the rabbit on the table beside her.

Elphaba pressed her back against the chilly wooden wall, unable to scream.

"Well?" he asked. "Would you like something to eat?"

At her continued silence, he puffed. "Not only do you jump in my lake uninvited, and have the rudeness to nearly drown, but now you won't even speak to me. Is there no civility left in Gillikin at all?" he asked, walking to a shelf above the fireplace, and retrieving her dress which sat folded on top of her wool mantle. Apparently they had been dried and stowed away. Walking toward her, he extended his hand. At the sight of her white garment bunched in his fist, Elphaba could taste the scraps of her servant's dress, feel its hefty weight cottoning her mouth. Clutching the bearskin to her, she skirted off the bed, cowering by the ladder, shaking her head, shrieking,

"Don't touch me, you devil! Don't touch me!"

At the sound of her voice, the High Constable winced, a look of terror filling his eyes.

"You're a Munchkinlander!" he announced, looking down at his red uniform, "I-I'm not one of them. Not anymore." His fingers unbuttoned his jacket, revealing a white undershirt.

"Stop!" Elphaba yelled, hiding her face in the blanket, scrunching her eyes shut. There was no way to escape him in this place. He would hurt her. Force himself on her. Just like—just like that night. "I'm sorry," he said, "Please, don't be afraid. I won't hurt you. I promise, I promise. It's okay. I won't hurt you. You're safe here."

The words echoed in her mind several times, before Elphaba really heard them. The edges of his voice. They were different from Sir Chuffrey's. And, the High Constable would sooner lose a war than apologize to a Munchkinlander. She lowered the blanket past her eyes. The man had crouched down and kept his distance, eyeing her hesitantly, reaffirming her safety in a delicate voice, as if he was soothing an abused animal. He had blonde hair and blue eyes, but not the pale blue of Chuffrey's, rather a vibrant blue with greenish hues, like the color of the high seas of Munchkinland. The top of his nose curved as if it had been broken once. The bottom of his face was covered in a moss of light blonde hair.

"I'm not a solider, not anymore. But, I've nothing else to wear, except for this uniform. I didn't mean to scare you," he said, pointing to the red jacket.

"Who are you?" Elphaba asked.

"Avaric Tenmeadows," he said.

"Where are we?"

"In my cabin, in the Great Gillikin Forest—What shall I call you?" he asked, before Elphaba could fit in another question.

She eyed him up and down, not answering.

"I could stick with _artichoke_?" he teased.

She snorted. His lips widened into a soft crooked smile.

"Elphaba," she finally told him.

"Pleased to meet you, _Elphaba."_

Elphaba only nodded. He wasn't Sir Chuffrey. And, it seemed he had pulled her from the lake. But he was still a Gillikinese man in a solider's uniform and she, a naked Munchkinlander woman in his cabin.

"I'm leaving," she said.

He blinked at her abruptness, taking a moment before he nodded and looked around for her dress. It had fallen on the cabin floor, sullied with a mud streak on the side.

"Won't you stay for supper?"

"No," Elphaba said and grabbed her dress from him, still holding the bearskin to her, waiting.

Avaric stared. Certainly he didn't expect her to dress with him in the cabin. Elphaba's eyes hardened. Avaric shot up, understanding her need, and scurried from the cabin. A gust of cold air whipped around the table and rustled Elphaba's hair before Avaric shut the front door and she exhaled.

She should have known it wouldn't be so easy. Life was coarse and mean. Why would death be any different? She would have to go back. Not to Runcible Castle. Never again to Runcible Castle. But to their cabin in the woods. Her brother was sure to be there with Nessarose. The vomitous memories of that chair, their bodies pressed together, the motion of their hips, stamped out her breath. She had no words to face him, no acrimonious banter in which to neatly wrap their pain. Yet, she would return. She couldn't leave him to shoulder the responsibilities of Nessarose alone. The universe had denied her that selfishness; she would not try her luck again. She slipped on her dress and the wool mantle by the fireplace. Fully clothed, she pulled open the door and was slapped by a blast of frost. The forest had disappeared into a white haze. She could barely see Avaric who stood a couple feet away, a snowy huddled lump.

She sighed as she sat back down on Avaric's bed. He grabbed a knife from his boot to peel the rabbit. She would be stuck with the soldier until tomorrow. And, yet, as scary as that would have seemed a few minutes ago, she wasn't scared. Rather it was Avaric who seemed anxious as he stood by the fireplace preparing supper. His body fixed still as a stone column while his sentences jutted against one another, rambling, hurried, not permitting a moment of quiet. Elphaba appreciated the packed rhythm of his conversation. It kept her from falling too deep into her own thoughts.

He chatted about the forest, the animals, the potatoes and mushrooms that grew next to the lake, and she wondered just how many Munchkinlanders he had killed with his crossbow. If he had cut up their bodies as easily as he flayed their rabbit. Supper came with more talk about his family, mostly his younger brother. They had served in the Gillikinese army together. She barely listened as she gobbled down the meal. She had forgotten what real food tasted like outside of castle porridge.

"He's a most loyal friend. If you confided in him, he would never share your secret. And, no matter the gossip, he would never turn on you," Avaric said, his voice faltering into quiet. The first quietness of the whole evening.

Elphaba who had lain down on the bed and pulled the bearskin up to her chin gazed over at him. He sat against the wall, staring down at the tops of his knees that were brought to his chest.

"Where does your brother reside now?" she asked, less from curiosity than fear of the silence.

"What?" Avaric asked, looking up.

"Has your brother made a cabin for himself in the Forest as well?" she asked.

Avaric paused and then said, as if he just remembered,

"It's time for bed."

He stood up and brushed off his pants and made his way to the loft.

Elphaba raised an eyebrow. What a queer response. Had his brother been injured during the war? But, Avaric wasn't bitter, at least not toward Munchkinlanders. He carried none of the resentment that the High Constable did— that devil who had taken everything from her. She squeezed the bearskin in her hands, trying to focus on the feel of it between her fingers, reminding herself that she wasn't at Runcible Castle any longer. Neither the Constable nor that rotten Galinda could hurt her here. If only she could switch places with the Princess, even for a season. Elphaba would show that little wretch, show Galinda how it felt to be helpless, have everything torn from you, to suffer without end. Elphaba thought of the things she wanted to do to Galinda, imagining how the Princess would sound begging for mercy. She cursed Galinda until her eyelids grew heavy with sleep.

The next morning, and the morning after next, the storm howled. Elphaba stayed in Avaric's cabin. The two continued their pattern. Avaric chatting at her while cooking, and she sitting idly on his bed, occasionally flipping through the pages of his books, reading only the titles, reveling in the feel of paper between her fingers. They were old fairy tales about Gillikin. Many were about the Kumbric Witch. "When the Kumbric Witch Came to the Great Gillikin Forest." "The Kumbric Witch and the Three Wishes." "The Kumbric Witch, Fairy Godmother of the Lowly." Avaric was surprised she could read them. She was surprised that he read them.

"I didn't know Gillikinese men of your age read children's books," she said.

He puffed, and grabbed the book from her, hugging it protectively to his chest, as if she had insulted it and not him.

"It's not a child's book! They're stories of Gillikin's far past."

Elphaba cackled. Avaric peered at her from the corner of his eye.

"Fairy godmothers and forest tricksters? Even you can't believe that a history," she said.

Avaric turned up his nose.

"Their personifications of our oldest desires."

"Gillikinese desires?" Elphaba asked.

"Yes, magical parables that aim to celebrate our highest thoughts and noblest passions—"

"Is there such a thing as a noble Gillikinese desire? A desire outside of demonizing, destroying, and razing? The only Gillikinese magic I've seen is the Gillikinese ability to magically transform their history of plunder and murder into celebratory anthems of honor and strength," she said.

Avaric's chin dropped.

"But that's the difference between history and these _fairy tales_ ," he whispered. "History is putting the past acts of pillage to the sound of trumpets, dressing the murder of thousands as a necessary moral act. These fairy tales are not meant to evacuate evil of its consequences; they are intended to make us think through the consequences of our worst selves, our best desires. To help us realize that neither good intentions nor grave circumstances can absolve us. There is no path but through. We must all work out our own salvation," Avaric said.

He spoke with the quiet optimism of the triumphant.

"I don't believe in salvation," she said.

"Perhaps you're right. Perhaps salvation is the myth of the damned," he said, looking up, "But, I can still try, can't I? Try to be led astray into the paths of virtue. Try to help you?"

"Help me? Help _me_?" Elphaba asked.

"Yes, Master Avaric Tenmeadows, at your service."

"You mean Master Avaric, in my way. If you wanted to help, you would have left me in the lake."

"You'd rather I left you that way? But, why? What happened to you that you'd prefer death to living? Does it have to do with that bruise?" he asked, pointing at her cheek.

Sir Chuffrey's slap! Of course the force of it had bruised her. In that instant Elphaba felt as if all the shame of that night was written on her body. Plainly evident for Avaric-the-helpful to see.

"What happened to your brother?" she hissed.

Avaric froze, stupefied, before he wordlessly turned, grabbed his coat, and headed out into the snow.

She hadn't meant to hurt him, not really, only to silence him, to end his questions and that _noble_ prying kindness that threatened to set her soul out to dry.

When Avaric returned a full candle mark later, his demeanor was sunny again, as if nothing happened. She knew it must have been a memory of the most painful kind. Only the worst ones required the bravest of faces. She would let their moment pass. If Avaric didn't bother her about her past, there was no reason to return to his nor Gillikin's. At least not tonight. They remained quiet until supper.

After eating, Avaric pulled out a deck of cards. The two played for several hours never talking about his brother nor her fading bruise. Instead their conversation stayed at the level of light-hearted jabs and joking. Every so often one would make a crack about the Gillikinese army. Their mutual detestation of the war became a point of kinship between them. Finally, the next morning Elphaba dressed in a pair of Avaric's old boots that were a size too big for her and stood outside Avaric's cabin to take her leave. She thanked him for his hospitality.

"Do you know how to get to where you're going?" he asked from his doorway.

"I'll be fine," she said, facing him.

He reached out and caught her wrist. She snatched back her hand, rubbing where he had touched as she scowled at him. Her stomach still cramping from the surprise.

"I didn't mean to—I just wanted to give you this." He pulled from his pocket a rectangle ivory compass. It flipped open to reveal a tiny sundial. Its style and engravings clearly Munchkinlandish. "Take it, please. I meant to return it."

Elphaba accepted it, her thumb brushing over the engraved royal seal of Munchkinland, surprised at how pleased she felt to see the familiar image. But, why did Avaric have this? Did he loot it? Steal it from a dead Munchkin? She cringed and looked up to see Avaric's soft crooked smile. She didn't want to think of him as a Gillikinese soldier, a murderer, not this man who took her in. She preferred to see him as the hermit of the woods, if only so her days with him made sense.

Leaving Avaric and following the compass, she found Nessarose's cabin in a couple of hours. She saw the back of it and remembered Pfannee's sword to Shell's throat, Sir Chuffrey's knife behind his head, the force of her brother's chest against hers. She felt frail, as if she might blow away in a gust of wind, but she didn't blow away. Her feet carried her onward. Any moment her brother would come out and greet her. She would have to respond. But with what words? Would he want to talk about that night? Would he ask about Galinda? Or would he ask how Elphaba ended up tied to that chair? If she had been tied before? If such things often happened to her in that castle? As she continued down the hill, her dread rising, she noticed a newly built shack next to the cabin, a small barn. Had Shell built this for Nessa?

Elphaba walked closer and heard talking. She peeked inside to see a spacious wooden room, with a high ceiling and a solid wooden beam across the length of it. Below the ceiling was a center walkway and a floor of hay and weeds. From the middle of the room, wooden animal pens were built on both sides. Only one of which was occupied by young goats who wore rope collars with little bells. Inside the pen, was a trough and a large wooden bucket for water. On the wall, were a couple of tools: a leather whip, shears, and some rope. Nessarose was perched on a stool by the entryway talking to Boq who was carrying a pail of water toward the pens.

"Nessa?" Elphaba hissed.

"Elphaba? Why are you here? At this hour?" Nessa asked alarmed, holding onto the stool as she looked over.

"Oh, Elphaba! Good to see you. What do you think?" Boq asked from the goat pen. "A couple of the Weavers and I built this for Nessa. They've given you a few of their goats. Now Nessa will be able to have fresh milk, cheese and meat. We've even cut some wood for Nessa as well."

"Lovely," Elphaba said in a hollow voice.

She was still waiting for her brother to pop out from one of the corners of the barn, but he didn't. He wasn't there. Elphaba berated herself for feeling relief.

"Where's Shell?" she asked.

"Shell?" Nessarose repeated. "Why would he be here? You still haven't told us why you've come."

"There's something I must tell you," Elphaba said and then looked at Boq who had his back turned to them and added, " _privately_."

Once Boq left and Elphaba had carried Nessa to the master suite and set her on the bed, she began to pace. She should have planned something. An explanation of some sort. But she hadn't expected to have to explain anything. She assumed Shell already had. When he left Galinda's room, she presumed he ran back here. Where was he? Was he still at the Castle? Had he left? Had he jumped into a lake of his own or perhaps off a cliff? Was there any chance Sir Chuffrey had gotten hold of him?

"Elphaba, you're making me dizzy. Will you stop prancing about and tell me what's happened?"

"I've left Runcible Castle," Elphaba blurted, standing still, her hands clinging to one another behind her back.

"What?" Nessa asked, as if she misheard.

"I left my position at the Castle. I will have to find some other way to take care of us."

"Does Shell know about this?" Nessa asked, her face whitening, her voice rising.

"I think he may have left his post as well, at least I assumed—" Elphaba said.

"How can you both be so selfish?! Do you not care about my well-being at all?! Am I to crawl on my belly for the rest of my years?" Nessa yelled, enraged. "And the Wizard's Carnival, I suppose I shall have to give that up as well?"

"Nessa, you don't under—"

"Selfish! That's all you are! What I wouldn't give to be in a castle again. And, you and Shell get to live at Mount Runcible, basking in luxury, surrounded by the finery of Gillikin, while I'm forced to eek out my days here, in this dirty little hole, without even a church to go to! How dare you decide to quit without asking me! Without one thought for me! Father would be ashamed of you! Ashamed!"

Elphaba flinched at the mention of her father, her cheeks blushing hard. Nessa had gotten that right. How very ashamed he would be. Ashamed of what she did with her brother. Of how she had...Elphaba felt tears threatening and said,

"Luckily Father isn't here then!"

Her sister gasped.

"What kind of daughter are you? You're sick, detestable, worthless—a worthless daughter! I stand in and take offense for him!" Nessarose said, spitting angry. "Go back to the Castle! You must go back! I forbid you to stay here in this cabin with me! I forbid it! Do you hear me? I forbid it!"

Elphaba needed to calm her. To tell her in an untelling way.

"Shell and I have been dismissed."

"What?"

"We didn't leave; we've been dismissed. The Princess falsely accused Shell of impropriety."

Nessa gasped.

"When I defended his character, Princess Galinda had us both dismissed."

Nessarose's hands fell twined at her chest, her eyes vacant. Elphaba wasn't sure if she was praying or seizing.

"Nessa? Nessarose?" Elphaba called. "We'll be okay. Everything will be okay," she whispered to her, aware of how trite she sounded.

"Gillikin will kill us, every last one of us. I want to go back. I want to go home. There's no place like home. There's no place like home. There's no place like home," Nessa repeated, in a gray, feeble, faraway voice.

Elphaba tucked Nessarose into bed and sat next to her singing several lullabies until her sister finally fell asleep. She lay down for a couple more hours beside Nessa, staring at the log ceiling, before she went to their trunk at the foot of the bed and pulled out a vial of oil, a piece of cloth, and an old dress of hers. It was time. She headed downstairs, putting her items in a bucket and went outside. The sun had already set. By the light of the moon, Elphaba made her way to the back of the cabin, and over a hill toward a large bent wishing tree next to a small shallow lake, its thin drooping branches hovering right above the ground and covered with narrow fine-tooth leaves.

Elphaba peeled back the branches like a curtain and went inside. She dabbed some oil on the cloth and began to unbutton her servant's dress. She hadn't cleaned herself since that night. She had been too petrified that the memories would rise through her pores. And, yet she longed to wash that vileness away, to rinse away the filth she could feel clinging to her. She took a deep breath and then raked the cloth over her shoulders, scrubbed it down her arms and under them, scoured it across her chest and abdomen. She wiped between her legs. There wasn't one bit of soreness. She hated that it hadn't been painful, loathed how aroused, how thoroughly wet she had been. How could she have no self control? How could she have let that happen to Shell? What kind of sister reacts that way to a brother's touch? Galinda wouldn't let her body resist. She had kept her wet, a damp cloth to her neck, water brushed down her arms. She made Elphaba rub against her brother like no sister should. If only Elphaba would have struggled against Shell, if only she would have held out, he would have known. Known it wasn't Galinda. If not for that wretched water, Elphaba would have stopped him from doing those things to her while she came. She dropped to her knees and began to sob into the cloth. Where was he? Would he never come back? Had she lost him forever? Damn, that Galinda! Damn, her! Damn her for making her think she had changed! She was probably laughing at her and Shell with Sir Chuffrey right now while sipping on evening brandy.

As Elphaba wept, she heard a young woman's voice say,

"There, there, my child. I have heard your cries."

Elphaba jumped, dropping her cloth. She pulled on her black-violet Munchkinlander dress, rushing with the buttons, and glanced up to see a blue white light piercing through the branches of the wishing tree. Elphaba drew back the leaves. A dazzling woman stood before her, in a long blue dress with a white collared blouse, laced together with a thin leather string. Light seemed to emanate from under her skin, making it almost translucent. Wrinkles curved down her face, her long white hair blew behind her, her eyes were a pupil-less pure black. Inside them was a deep knowing. She was a very old woman, much older than her voice sounded. Elphaba squeezed the branches in her hand, her knees shaking, her mouth dry.

"Welcome to my forest, Elphaba Thropp Third Descending," the woman said.

"How do you..." Elphaba's voice trailed off, her nerves cutting her sentence short.

"I know everyone who enters my forest."

"Your forest?"

"Yes, well surely you can guess who I am. You've read plenty at Avaric's cabin."

"Avaric?" Elphaba asked. How did this woman, no—this entity, know she had been with Avaric? Then Elphaba remembered what she read. The Kumbric Witch! Could this be her? But there were no real fairies in the forest! It had been the Weavers who did those tricks to the Gillikinese!

"Well, not all of the tricks, my dear," the woman replied.

Elphaba's eyebrow rose. She hadn't said that aloud.

"The Weavers have only been in my forest for a wee time, but we've been here much longer, longer than even the trees. We've turned frightening Gillikinese royalty into a sport," the woman said with a smirk.

Elphaba felt her heart freeze. The woman could read her mind.

"Yes, I can. And, you might as well call me by my name. It sounds a bit better than 'the woman,'" said the woman with a grin, "I'm Yackle, also known by the Gillikinese as the Kumbric Witch, Fairy Godmother of the Lowly. Fairy Godmother will do just fine."

"But, those stories were —" _fables, myths_ , Elphaba thought.

"True. Myths have been written about us. But, that does not mean we do not exist independent of such stories," the Witch said.

 _Why are you here?_ Elphaba asked the Witch in her mind.

"I've heard your cries and I've come to grant you three wishes."

"Wishes?"

"Yes, tell me and I shall grant you whatever your heart desires."

This is nonsense, Elphaba thought. Her sadness had given way to delusions.

"Test your delusions and see," said Yackle, crossing her arms.

Elphaba pursed her lips, wishing her thoughts were private.

"Come now, tell Old Yackle what you want and I shall stop reading your mind," the glowing Witch said.

Annoyed at being pressed by an illusion, Elphaba said in a hurry, "I wish for the Princess of Gillikin to be subject to the same suffering she inflicted. I wish for my sister to walk. And, I wish for my brother to return."

"As you wish it, so it shall be," the Witch said, her skin growing bright, so bright, it hurt for Elphaba to look at her. Elphaba turned away and when she turned back, the forest was dark, even the stars were hid behind clouds. There was no sign Yackle had ever been. Elphaba shivered. Had she dreamed up a fairy godmother or had she really seen one? She needed to check on Nessa. It was just the two of them now. What if that entity meant to harm them? She rushed back to the cabin, lighting up the stairs. She opened the bedroom door and saw Nessa propped up against the pillows, her expression sour. Elphaba had never been so relieved to see that vinegar face.

"Where were you?" Nessa asked, "I've been up for quite a while and the fire has almost gone out."

"I took a walk," Elphaba said, grabbing a log from a stack by the fireplace that Boq must have chopped.

"Bring me close to it," Nessa ordered.

Elphaba turned and walked over to the bed. Nessa stretched out her hands and Elphaba hoisted her up, a hand behind her back and an arm under her knees. _As you wish it, so it shall be._ Elphaba heard the fairy's words in her mind. Was it possible? Could Nessarose walk? She couldn't just ask her, could she? No. Nessa would think her out of her mind. But perhaps she could just try a simple test.

"Elphaba!" Nessa gasped, clinging onto her. "What are you doing?"

Yes, dropping Nessa's legs on the floor had been a much better idea! Elphaba chided herself.

"I thought you might want to try and stand?" she said nonchalantly, holding her sister around her waist and looking down to see if her legs had changed.

Nessa glared at her, her cheeks reddening, her legs dangling.

"I will try to stand, dear sister, as soon as you try being anything other than that wretched color," she said.

"I'm sorry, Nessa. It was insensitive of me," Elphaba said and Nessa huffed as Elphaba set her down on a blanket by the fire. So had it been a delusion after all? Of course it had. There were no such things as fairies. Just like there was no such thing as justice in Oz. Galinda would never be punished. Her sister would never walk. Her brother would never return. She felt certain now. She had broken up what little family she had left. What a fool she had been! Why had she ever entered that castle at all. Why had she stayed once she found out what kind of woman Galinda truly was. If only she could take it all back. She would have taken her siblings somewhere else. Anywhere else. She lay down beside Nessa, feeling her heart crumple.

The next morning, she awoke to Nessa shaking her, asking her to bring her to see the goats. They needed to graze. After braiding her own hair and brushing Nessa's, Elphaba carried her sister down on her back to the barn. She let one of Nessa's legs go as she opened the door and then let out a shriek, almost dropping Nessa completely. She slammed the door shut. It couldn't be! It just couldn't be!

"What is it?" Nessarose called.

A woman in a pink dress was hanging in their barn, hanging by her hands that has been tied together with a rope that was hung over the high beam. The woman's feet, a couple inches above the floor, were bound at the ankles. Elphaba recognized that pink dress. Of course she recognized it. She had taken that Frottican frock on and off Galinda so many times, she even remembered the number of clasps. Could it be? Could Galinda really be hanging in their barn? Did that mean the Kumbric Witch was real?

"Elphaba? Is something wrong with the goats?" Nessa asked, trying to hoist herself higher.

Elphaba shook her head.

"Then what's the matter?"

"I might have wished the Princess here," Elphaba whispered.

"What?"

"Last night when you were asleep, I met someone in the forest."

"Who?" Nessa asked startled.

"The Kumbric Witch."

"You bargained with a witch?" Nessa asked, clearly horrified at Elphaba's sacrilegious impulses.

"I didn't bargain. I only made a few wishes so she would leave me alone."

"You conversed with a witch, and then out of everything you could have wished for — you wished to see the Gillikinese Princess who ruined us?" Nessa asked, getting upset. "How idiotically selfish of you! Yet again!"

"Don't be ridiculous! I didn't ask to see Galinda. I asked for her to be repaid for what she had done. I asked for you to walk. I..." Elphaba stopped, unable to mention her brother.

"Is that why you dropped me last night?" Nessa asked.

Elphaba nodded.

"Well it didn't work!" Nessa hissed in her ear.

"I know. I was silly to think it would."

Elphaba clenched her teeth. Galinda couldn't be in their barn. It was just a hallucination, just like her conversation with the Witch, all an illusion brought on by grief. Elphaba opened the door again, only to squawk. The blonde woman still hung by her hands with her back to them.

"Can you—" Elphaba asked.

"I can. I can see her," Nessa whispered over her shoulder. "Is it really the Princess?" "I think so," Elphaba said.

Galinda wasn't talking, nor did she appear to be hearing them. Was she dead? A chill rushed through Elphaba.

"What are those shoes doing beside her?" Nessa asked.

Elphaba looked down to see sparkling ruby red slippers on the ground several feet to the right of Galinda. Galinda was wearing her own pair of pink heels, so why was there an extra pair? Elphaba set Nessa down on the stool by the door and walked over to see a tightly wound scroll peeking out of the left slipper. She reached down, plucked it, and read it aloud:

 _Dearest Elphaba Thropp Third Descending,_

 _Galinda has been delivered here, in a sleep-kept waitfulness. She has no memory of herself as the Princess of Gillikin. Instead she believes she is part of a company of petty Gillikinese thieves who robbed you. Her memories of last night are as follows: After stealing your jewels, her company fled from your cabin. She however was caught, beaten over the head, and strung up here. You have vowed to keep her here as your servant until the thieves return the stolen goods in exchange for her freedom. She has no memory beyond this night. She believes this due to the blow to her head. When you want her to awake, simply touch her, and all shall begin._  
 _Also, these ruby red slippers are walking shoes. Put them on your sister's feet. Then have her click her heels three times. As long as they remain on her feet, her legs shall take her where she wants to go._

 _Yours truly,_  
 _The Fairy Godmother of the Lowly_

 _P.S. Please do not worry about Runcible Castle. They believe the Princess has been stolen by Ugabu mages and are presently occupied traveling far north to find her._

As soon as Elphaba finished reading the letter, it crumbled into sand and slid through her fingers. Elphaba gasped.

"Look!" Nessa said and pointed toward Galinda.

The Princess' dress had changed. Her jewels, her thick gown of rich silks and cottons, her pretty pink heels, all of it had vanished. Instead, she wore only a simple pearl-white peasant's dress with large buttons down the back of it and plain brown boots.

"Give me the slippers! Quick! Put them on my feet!" Nessa said, her arms outstretched, her hands gasping for them.

"Didn't you just say we shouldn't be bargaining with a witch?" Elphaba asked, looking at the slippers.

"Since we can't change your ill choices, we might as well make the best of them."

"This may be a sort of malicious trickery. I'm not even sure if—"

"Elphaba! You've gotten everything since we've come here. Will you deny me even this—my heart's desire since I was a child?"

Elphaba sighed. There would be no persuading Nessa in this state. She walked over and picked up the shoes. They felt safe. Although she hardly knew what unsafe slippers would feel like. She bent down by her sister, placing one heel on her socked foot. It fit. When she slid the other on, the slippers glowed a deep pinkish-red. Nessa's eyes grew large. "Elphaba, I can feel them! I can feel my legs!" Her scrawny appendages stiffly turned this way and that. "Help me stand!" she commanded.

Elphaba propped her sister up. Nessa pushed her heels together, once, twice, thrice, and groaned. Her whole body wiggling as if she had a fluid spine.

"Nessa!" Elphaba called. What were the slippers doing to her? She should have never put them on her sister without testing them on herself first! She reached down, but Nessa staggered forward.

"I'm walking! Walking!" she called out, this time running in a wobble toward the far end of the barn. Elphaba rushed after her. Her sister avoided running into the door, looping back to run to the other side of the barn. Elphaba followed behind until she came right in front of Galinda. She stopped in her tracks, staring at the Princess' sleeping face. It was really her. Suddenly she remembered how that night ended.

 _Elphaba, you're dismissed. You're free to go_.

How cavalier. Galinda had dismissed her like she had every other night. As if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Galinda tricked her brother into that despicable act and all she could say was, "You're dismissed." Elphaba clenched her hands, feeling her cheeks ignite with anger. Her eyes traced Galinda's full pink lips. That mouth had kissed her. Galinda's hands, a purplish red from being tied above her head, had felt her, slapped her, soaked her. This woman whom she couldn't stop cursing was a mere step away. She could do anything she liked to Galinda and for once Galinda would have to bear it.

But before she could decide what to do, Nessa tossed a pail of the goat's water at the sleeping princess.

"Oouuu!" Galinda said, her eyes fluttering open as she shook her head.

Despite her initial brave anger, Elphaba scurried behind Galinda before the blonde could spot her. She didn't know if she could look the Princess in her eyes. She felt suddenly afraid that Galinda's face would be too much to hold.

"Where am I?" the Princess asked groggily.

SMACK!

"Ouch!" the Princess yelped.

"Perhaps that will help you remember what you've done?" Nessa said. Elphaba gawked at her sister. How quickly Nessa acted the part. But, it wasn't an act for Nessa, was it? The Gillikinese had annihilated her way of life, destroyed her father, and banished her brother. Now with Galinda hanging in front of her, she finally had someone to blame.

SMACK! Nessa slapped her again.

"Please!" Galinda pleaded, trying to squirm away. "I remember. I remember! Something about your jewels. We tried to take them. But, as you can see, I don't have any jewels now."

"Yes, well, I don't have them either thanks to you, you little maggot-pie," Nessa said and rose her hand to strike Galinda again.

Galinda clenched her eyes shut and said,

"Let me go! I shall find my friends and bring your jewels back."

"Lies!" Nessa yelled and slapped Galinda's cheek again.

Elphaba shivered. Her sister standing. The Princess a peasant. In an instant, her world had turned on its head.

"Will you stop that? Honestly, slapping me won't be bring back those jewels any faster!" Galinda yelled.

"You strike me as impertinent," Nessa said.

"I have not struck you yet, Munchkinlander," Galinda said.

Nessa blanched and said,

"Raggabrash! Gillikinese whore!"

Galinda huffed.

"It's Galinda, I'll have you know. And, you should be grateful this Gillikinese is talking to your ilk at all." she said.

Nessa cackled.

"Clearly you have more hair than wit. If you wish to keep speaking to me, address me properly, commoner!"

"And if I wish to never speak to you again?" Galinda asked.

"Do not test me, Glinda."

"My name is _Ga_ -linda," the hanging Princess said.

"Not anymore it isn't," Nessa said. "Repeat after me: My Lady, I am Glinda, dull and dreary, here to serve thee, meek and cheery."

"What makes you think I would repeat that drivel?" Galinda said.

Nessa's legs swick-swicked over to the goat's pen. She grabbed the leather whip and slick-slicked behind Galinda. The Princess turned her neck, struggling to swing around and see Nessa, but the ropes held her tight.

Elphaba caught Galinda's profile. The Princess' memories may no longer be the same, but her face was. That look of contempt. She had seen it many times. Elphaba couldn't catch her breath. She needed to get out, get away. She stumbled out of the barn, wheezing, racing into the cabin, tripping up the stairs, until she pushed open Nessa's door. She huddled in the corner of the room, trying to black out the memories. Galinda tricking her. Silently watching Sir Chuffrey tie her down. Calling her brother over in that sultry voice.

She counted her breaths, watching the sun fall to the west, until her mind turned empty and calm. It was then that Elphaba realized Nessa was still in the barn. And, it was then that she heard Galinda's blood-curdling scream. Elphaba shot from the floor and raced back outside.

"I don't believe you! Say it louder!" Elphaba could hear Nessa howl. Swack! Swack!

Nothing could have prepared Elphaba for the sight of the two women as she opened the door. The princess still hung from her hands. Around her neck was a goat collar with a bell. Her dress had been unbuttoned. Her backside exposed. Her pink bottom was welted and raw from Nessa who continued to whip it. Her left foot had a deep gash down the length of it. It looked as if Nessa was tallying the sins of Gillkin in her flesh.

"My Lady, I am Glinda, dull and dreary..." Galinda said in a hoarse voice, that told Elphaba she had repeated Nessa's ditty many times already.

"Nessarose!" Elphaba called. Galinda continued the chant oblivious of Elphaba's presence. Nessa stopped and turned. Elphaba flinched. Her sister's eyes stared at her as if she were prey, blood dripped from her fingers, red dots were scattered across her dress and face.

"Come outside, right now!" Elphaba hissed.

Nessa lurched forward, her legs still awkward and new. Elphaba closed the barn door and asked,

"Did you plan to beat her to death?"

"Did you plan to serve her tea and fruit?"

"Nessa, that's enough."

"I thought you wanted Glinda punished?"

"There's a difference between punishing and mutilating!"

"Fine. I _am_ rather fatigued," Nessa conceded rubbing her shoulder, "Shall we keep her tied in the barn?"

"No! We will not!" Elphaba said.

"Well, I did fit a collar around her neck and slice her foot to keep her from running away. I suppose we can tie her somewhere in the cabin," Nessa said, her face thick with thought.

Elphaba could only gape. Who was this heartless plotting creature before her? She knew the Gillikinese were skilled in ruthlessness, but she could not bear to see this behavior from Nessarose. Nessa could be selfish, but never so purposefully cruel. She should have never left her alone with the Princess.

"Nessa, go and wash up. I'll take care of Galinda and make us some supper afterward." Elphaba said.

Her sister nodded, appearing somewhat grateful to pass on the chore of Glinda, but before she wobbled toward the cabin, she whispered,

"Call that whore, Glinda. We don't want anyone to suspect that we have the Princess of Gillikin under our roof."

Elphaba's mouth fell open as Nessa with stilted steps made her way toward the cabin. Her sister was right. She couldn't use the name Galinda anymore. But the ease with which Nessa schemed scared her. What kind of powerful magic was this? That could bring Galinda here like this? That could make Nessa walk? That could make her sister turn like this? Magic this powerful could never be good. There had to be a catch. What if Yackle washed Galinda's memory permanently? Or worse, what if she hadn't? If Galinda suddenly realized who she was or if anyone else recognized her, both her and her sister would be promptly executed. Did that mean they were stuck with Glinda forever? Somehow, Elphaba had imagined the Princess would be punished in the castle. Far, far away from her. She never dreamed she would have to see Galinda again. And never like this. How that witch bungled her wishes! And, her brother. Her third wish still went unanswered. Did that mean that Shell...that he had...Elphaba shook her head. It couldn't be. It just couldn't. Shell was still out there somewhere. He had to be! Elphaba clenched her skirt and breathed through her nose, trying to calm herself so she could face Glinda. Counting to ten, she opened the barn door, her eyes falling on Glinda's exposed and bruised buttocks. She remembered Galinda's bruised cheek after Sir Chuffrey hit her.

"My Lady, I am Glinda, dull and dreary..."

Watching Glinda debase herself in that state Elphaba felt a stab of remorse. Damn her morals! This was what Galinda deserved. That wretch would never feel sorry. She would never change. Galinda's fluctuations in mood were but a form of trickery. Drawing dolts like Elphaba in, so she could hurt them even more acutely. Even if Galinda could feel guilt, it wouldn't change anything. She had destroyed them. Hell and hell. Galinda deserved to be stripped, beaten, humiliated! She deserved everything Nessa had done. And, yet, Elphaba could feel no pleasure in it. No special spark hearing Galinda cry out. Pain didn't arouse her. Not like it did Galinda when she got off torturing her. She wanted Galinda to pay but pay out of sight. Why was it that the thought of revenge always soothed better than the reality of it? _Oh, Elphaba, what a sorry fool you are!_ she berated herself.

Glancing down, she saw red-stained shears near Glinda's feet. She had to clean this up. Grabbing them, she hacked into the rope that bound Galinda's hands. Shh. Chh. Kk. The rope started to break apart and Elphaba dropped the instrument. Galinda fell backward into her arms, her eyes still shut as she repeated,

"My Lady, I am Glinda, dull and dreary here to serve thee..."

"That's enough. You can stop with that, you little idiot," Elphaba whispered, looking down at her as she carried the blonde outside.

Glinda slowly opened her eyes. Her face panicking as she took in Elphaba. Had the spell wore off? Did Galinda recognize her? Elphaba's shoulders tightened as a bead of sweat ran down her neck. How would she explain this? Yet, before she could speak a word, Glinda let out a shriek, her eyes rolling back as she fainted. Elphaba snorted. For once her green skin had done her a favor. Tending to Glinda's wounds would be much easier with her passed out...or so Elphaba thought.

* * *

This chapter drew from the timeless witticisms of Oscar and William.


	10. Chapter 10

Dear Readers,

My apologies for taking another two months to update but many many thanks to all of you who left encouraging comments. Your kind words always bring me back to the story and give me the strength to see it through. It is because of your comments that this story exists.

Before I turn to the next chapter, I thought I would share an observation. While (thankfully) many of you are enjoying this story, there have been a few others who have not. I expected as much when I agreed to write a dark taboo Gelphie. Yet something surprised me in the more angry comments. I realized that more than the taboo sex scenes (although I'm sure some felt those insufferable as well), what seemed most unbearable was _forgiveness_. The possibility that Elphaba might come to love Glinda in spite of everything. It gave me a chance to think on the grey conditions, the black and white boundaries, and the taboo nature of forgiveness. I hope all of you who do continue reading this will enjoy finding out where that taboo will land Elphaba and Galinda, if it lands at all.

A heartfelt thanks to all of you who shared your encouragement, feedback, and criticism!

Happy Holidays!

Wishing you all much love and warmth,

Lola

* * *

 **Warning: Mild violence. This chapter is a bit bloody, for more reasons than one.**

* * *

The warm oil slid between her thighs. A wet cloth swept her bottom, over cuts and welts that burned and goosebumped. Her dress. It was open. She remembered. The lashes. The sisters. One cruel and one green. That disfigured face. It couldn't have been real, could it have? Glinda blinked until hazy colors came into focus. She was lying face down on the wood floor of a dimly lit bedroom. She could smell birch burning in a nearby fireplace. Someone was kneeling to her right, brushing her with a cloth. Coming between her nether cheeks. Glinda bit her lip. Would they molest her? What asinine impulse had driven her to sass her captors?

Glinda moved her legs. They were stuck, no— _tied_ —together. Her left foot burned as if it rested on a hot ember. Her shoulders pulsed with a brittle needling, no doubt from hanging for hours in the barn. The cloth wiped the edge of her vaginal leaves and she gasped. Not this. She wiggled fiercely, trying to roll left, right, then left.

"Hold still, you idiot," the brusher said. It was a Munchkinlander's voice, but it wasn't the piercing tone of the butcher in the barn. It was a smooth, yet gravelly female voice that made Glinda's stomach knot.

"I shall not warn you twice," the woman said and yanked Glinda still. "Roll again and I shall leave you for your wounds to scar worse than they shall."

Scar? Glinda propped herself on her elbows and turned to look at herself. And screamed. The green face had been real! The figure flinched. Her face hardening before she said,

"Does my appearance disturb you? Shall I call for Nessarose?"

Who? But before Glinda could ask, the green woman answered.

"You met in the barn. Perhaps you'd prefer if she'd finish dressing your wounds, instead of I?"

That sadist? Glinda shook her head.

"Then keep still," the green woman said.

"But, I don't want this," Glinda said.

"Don't want what?"

"I don't want _you_ between my legs!" Glinda said, her face heating.

The Munchkinlander darkened.

"No one in this cabin wants anything between your legs! I need to remove the dry blood to see the extent of your wounds. That is all."

Not believing her, Glinda asked,

"But why would you want to help a thief?"

"I don't! What you did was unforgivable! You took everything from this family— _everything_! I want your ugly body removed from my rafters and cleaned, so you can start your service."

Ugly? Her? Glinda couldn't remember what she looked like, but surely she wasn't ugly. She would have remembered that. Wouldn't she have? Before she could respond, the Munchkinlander snatched the rope collar around her neck, and yanked. "Now keep still," she said, the coarse rope tightening as Glinda's cheekbone hit the floor.

Glinda kept prone while the Munchkinlander dabbed more oil across her cuts and tied cloth over the gash in her foot. Who was she? Galinda, now Glinda. She couldn't even remember her last name nor why she had been raiding some cabin in the dark. Try as she might, Glinda couldn't conjure one single memory, only an opaque heaviness.

The Munchkinlander finished, closed Glinda's dress, and rolled her over. Glinda looked at her captor's face. Despite the discoloration, the woman wasn't unattractive. Her nose dipped at the end like an eagle's. Her cheekbones sat high. Her sharp yet wide dark brown eyes were shaded by long eyelashes. All of her features went well together. Quite well. Glinda's eyes trailed down to her mouth that was pursing into a M shape. Luscious. The Munchkinlander was stunning. Galinda's heart sped up, dancing against her bones. Dancing even more, when she realized the green woman was looking very much annoyed.

"Pardon," Glinda said, "I didn't mean to stare. And, well, I wasn't staring at your skin."

Elphaba raised a disbelieving eyebrow.

"Not this time. It was more your eyes—I mean, your cheeks—well, your lips..." Glinda babbled, her face flushing. It was coming out all wrong.

"What?"

"It's just...you... you're...rather—well put-together, yes, well put-together!"

 _Surprisingly so,_ Glinda thought.

The green woman trembled. Wondering if she heard her, Glinda clarified,

"I mean to say you're comely."

The Munchkinlander's face grew tight, she swallowed, before she rasped, "Are you so bold to mock me?"

She grabbed Glinda by her arm and hoisted her to her feet. Galinda winced as the weight of her body came down on her wounded foot, the pain so raw she felt it in the back of her throat. Elphaba glared. Glinda swallowed down a whimper and whispered,

"I wasn't mocking you, my lady. I meant it. Despite your coloring, your features are of great beauty."

The Munchkinlander's eyes narrowed, looking annoyed Glinda dared to repeat herself. She was in for a very sore evening. Glinda twisted her eyes shut, waiting for it, the slap, the punch, the lashing, the pain that would tell her she had done something wrong. Instead Elphaba tossed her face first against the wall, forcing her arms behind her back, grabbing the extra rope from her ankle, and tying her wrists as if preparing a roast. The rope cut like fire over Glinda's red and worn skin.

"Stop!" Glinda said. "I meant no offense!"

The Munchkinlander shoved her. Glinda teetered, the bell around her neck tinkling. With legs and arms bound, she fell, bouncing on her side, her bones smarting.

Glinda hissed.

"Sleep," the green woman said.

"Tied on the floor?" Glinda asked.

"We wouldn't want you stealing anything else and running off."

Running off? Glinda couldn't even stand, let alone walk. She had no idea who she was. Where she came from. Or where to go. The Munchkinlander walked to the bed beside the fireplace. Sitting down across from her, she eyed her, as if half-expecting Glinda to break out of her bindings and dash away. But, Glinda was stuck here. Bound and beaten, without any memory, without anyone at all in the world. Glinda's nose prickled, a sob gathering in her chest, but before it crept out, someone crept in. The red-slippered butcher, dressed all in black. Glinda cringed.

"Shall we gag her and lock her in the trunk?" the butcher asked from the doorway.

Glinda's heart stopped. Locked in a trunk? Gagged? How would she breathe? And the darkness. Would she even be able to turn around? Her hands grew moist.

"That won't be necessary," the green sister said.

"It won't take much work, Elphaba."

"She'll be fine on the floor."

Glinda never felt so grateful to _Elphaba_. The woman's name sounded good, saintly— _familiar_.

"Are you certain?" the butcher asked. "What if she tries something while we're asleep?"

Elphaba rolled the thought over for a moment, gazing at Glinda.

"I wouldn't!" Glinda blurted.

Nessa glared. Then popped Glinda in the mouth with her slipper. "Who asked you?" Nessa asked. Glinda's tongue ran over where the butcher's foot had been. Iron. The butcher split her lip.

"As you can see, it doesn't appear she can try anything," Elphaba said.

"I suppose. But, if you change your mind, I'll be in my room," Nessa said.

Elphaba nodded.

When Nessa left, closing the door, Glinda caught Elphaba's gaze.

"Thank you," she said.

Elphaba snorted. "I didn't do it for you," she snapped.

For who then? Elphaba didn't elaborate. Glinda closed her eyes. Despite being tied on floor, the pain and exhaustion of her day carried her into sleep.

She awoke the next morning with a stiff soreness throughout her body. The stiffest one in her bladder. She looked to see Elphaba asleep in the same position, her lips open, a line of drool falling out the corner of mouth. Even now, Glinda couldn't help but find the contours of Elphaba's face strangely regal. She tried to rock herself into a sitting position, yet the slightest resistance against the ropes was painful and her bottom ached from the whippings. She would have to stay still until Elphaba awoke.

Laying there, she tried to remember her life, her parents, her home, but was greeted again by a white abyss. What about her company of thieves? Vague misty shapes came to mind— a beard, a gruff laugh, a ducking, a hiding, a warm hand at her back but nothing clear. Everything felt stuck behind an impenetrable curtain. Did her friends even care that she had been caught? Would they come for her? Would she be stuck here forever with these two witches of the woods? Permanently lost? Her anxiety about a future of what-may was punctured by the present of what-was: her bladder bursting.

"Ah!" she gasped. Elphaba's eyes snapped open. She jerked upright, wiping the corner of her mouth, searching the room until her eyes fell on Glinda. Another shot of pain. Glinda squeezed her eyes tight.

"What's wrong with you?" Elphaba asked.

"A chamber pot," Glinda uttered, opening her eyes. "Hurry!"

The green woman got up from the bed, slipped on her boots and walked over and grabbed her by the arm.

"We haven't one. You'll have to go outside," she said and lifted Glinda to her feet. Glinda shrieked biting her lip, trying to bear the pain in her foot and shoulder. Elphaba pulled her barefoot, hopping out of the room, but the pain was excruciating. Glinda's legs gave out in the hallway.

"Get up," Elphaba said, holding onto her arm as Glinda slumped on the floor.

"I can't," Glinda said, half crying.

Elphaba pulled. It was only a firm tug, but the long hours of hanging in the barn had damaged Glinda's shoulders. She yelped. It felt as if Elphaba had twisted her arm from its socket.

"Please, I can't, I can't," she said in a panicked whisper.

In a swoop, Glinda was off her feet, in Elphaba's arms, moving down the stairs. What strength! Elphaba didn't seem strained. Her expression was determined. And this. What was this? Elphaba's scent. It was as if Glinda had smelt it before. That feeling of a memory made her eager for more. She inhaled again, trying to hold on to it, seeking its source. Another whiff, and another. This thick, lavish scent made her belly twirl. It was a scent you could twine a scarf with. Out of the cabin, Glinda shivered. Her dress was thin and the chill cut to her marrow. Elphaba put her down on a frosty grass clearing several feet from the cabin. Glinda hunched to take weight off her wounded foot.

"Well?" the Munchkinlander asked.

"Excuse me?" Glinda asked, hands tied behind her back, legs bound.

"Didn't you ask to relieve yourself?"

"I did."

"Go then!"

"But my legs, how am I—"

"Squat, you idiot!" Elphaba said.

"But I'm tied; I won't even been able to pull up my dress or hold myself. Please, you must—"

"I _mustn't_ do anything for you!"

"Don't humiliate me! Not like this," she pleaded.

"Humiliate you?! You have no idea how I could humiliate you!" Elphaba shouted and Glinda flinched. "Piss, you little wretch, before I make you wait until after supper!"

After supper?! Glinda's face fell. She would wet herself by then. She squatted, wobbling, her bottom protruding, the winter wind blowing her skirt. Despite the chill, her cheeks were blazing with shame. How she must look! Slouched over. Her backside flapping in the air. She staggered. Swayed. Toppled. The side of her face hitting cold snow and hard earth. She yelped, rolling over to her side. Elphaba burst into a cackle. Glinda rolled onto her knees, a spurt leaking from her. As Glinda swayed, pushing with her toes toward a stance, Elphaba's laughter roared. The ground was too icy. Glinda slipped. Hit her face again. Mostly her cheek. And the side of her nose.

Is this what Elphaba wanted? To see her fall? Squirm in the dirt like an animal? Pee and soil herself? Glinda slowly rolled over and the laughter stopped. A trickle fell from Glinda's nose and then from her eyes. She thought Elphaba was different. Not vicious like her sister. Yet now it seemed they merely had contrasting tastes in cruelty—one in blood and one in shame.

Something tugged her feet. Glinda raised her head. Elphaba had squatted down and was undoing her bindings. Glinda's ankles were bloodied and bruised from the coarse rope. Elphaba pulled her legs apart, before laying them down and looking up, as she said,

"If I untie your hands, you must obey me. Or I shall let Nessa hang you in the barn. Do you understand me, Glinda?"

Glinda's head bobbed up and down. Elphaba lifted her onto her feet and removed the rope from her hands. At bursting point, she pulled up her dress and squatted with her back to the Munchkinlander. But, before starting, she had the common sense to ask,

"Can I go now, my lady?"

"What?"

"Can I relieve myself now, my lady?"

Silence.

Had Elphaba heard her? Should she ask again?

"Get on with it!" Elphaba hissed in a whisper.

When Glinda finished, she fixed her dress and turned around. Elphaba's was staring at her. Had the green woman been gazing at her naked backside? The thought of Elphaba viewing something so private, made Glinda warm uncomfortably. Elphaba turned toward the cabin, seemingly embarrassed herself.

"Come. Get inside," she said and walked toward the cabin. Glinda hobbled behind her captor, but with no crutch or shoes, her feet were numbingly frosty, and her left foot was no use at all. She fell to her knees and watched Elphaba speed ahead. She had to keep up. She couldn't let Elphaba think her disobedient. She crawled, clawing at ice, pulling herself over clumps of earth.

Elphaba glanced behind. Not seeing Glinda at the proper height, she turned in alarm, until she spotted her on the ground.

"What are you doing?" Elphaba asked.

"Following you," Glinda said meekly.

"On your knees?"

"My foot," Glinda said. "I can't keep your pace."

Elphaba sighed, before she trudged toward her. The cabin door opened to reveal Nessarose. In the light of morning, Glinda was a bit awed by Nessa's freakish beauty. Wasp-hipped, she was dressed in an extravagant black dress that revealed her slender shoulders. Her eyes were round and soft like a doe's, outlined by thick trails of black eyelashes. Her skin was fair and without mark. Her black hair was swept up in an elegant bun behind her. Her mouth was small and feminine, her lips a deep crimson red. Seeing Glinda on the ground, Nessa smirked.

"That position suits our Little Whore of Gillikin, doesn't it. Let her crawl in our presence."

Is that what she looked like, a harlot?

"Nessa, go inside. You'll catch a chill out here," Elphaba said, ignoring her sister's comment. She crouched beside Glinda and said, "Hold my neck."

Glinda hesitated, only to receive a stern look. She immediately, yet cautiously, looped her hands around Elphaba's neck, her forearms resting on Elphaba's shoulders, her face uncomfortably close to her captor's. Her gaze fell to soft dark green lips that were almost brushing hers. The Munchkinlander caught Glinda's eyes. For a second, Glinda thought Elphaba looked nervous, before her expression tightened with revulsion as she said,

"I will not warn you again. Whether it be my skin or my cheeks, stop staring! Or risk a stiff poke in the eyes!"

Glinda shut her eyes and Elphaba hoisted her up, walking her inside. That smell again. Elphaba's scent. What did it remind her of? Had one of her company smelt like this? Did her home smell like this? Why did it feel so comforting? So pleasantly overwhelming? Glinda shivered.

When Elphaba put her down, Glinda was in a kitchen. It was stark. A lit fireplace sat to her right, with its stone box of pokers and shovel beside it. A large wooden table lay in front of her with six chairs. A staircase and mostly empty shelves to her left, and a deep stone sink lay behind her next to the front door. The butcher sat at the table by the fireplace, but her posture looked out of place, as if her body was ill-accustomed to its position.

"You can prepare our meal," Nessa instructed, pointing to a sack of potatoes on the table and the blunt rusted knife beside it. Glinda would have hobbled over and did it just that, but how did one peel a potato? She couldn't remember having ever fixed a meal. Certainly she must have. She tried to remember, but nothing came. Nothing but that foul unrelenting whiteness.

"Might my lady remind me how?" Glinda ventured.

Nessa stood, squeezing a potato in one hand and clasping the knife in the other. Her lips puckering, as she inched forward in stilted totters. With each step, Glinda felt herself shrink. Nessa stopped a breath from her. Raising the knife, she scraped the metal instrument over the skin, raking it up. Then she pointed the knife at Glinda's chest, resting the tip on the button above her bosom. Glinda jumped.

"Peel and chop them. If you can't do that, then perhaps," Nessa said, slicing her top button loose, exposing the swell of her breasts, "we'll just have to eat you instead."

The blunt knife curved down her breasts. Glinda shuddered, her stomach twisting at the dangerous movement.

"Nessa!" Elphaba said.

The butcher laughed and said,

"What, Elphaba? Don't care to play with your food?"

Nessa's knife swerved between Glinda's breasts, sliding downward, under her pendulous flesh, pushing her dress open, her nipple hardening in the open air. Would the butcher really taste her? Glinda trembled, more afraid of Nessa now than she was of her in the barn.

Her heart beat furiously while her mind filled with retorts: _Only animals should be eaten and clearly the most beastly one is you. So, is it cannibalism that's responsible for Munchkinland's general deformity?_ She bit her lip to keep the words from flying out of her mouth. The constraint feeling utterly unnatural.

"Nessarose! Leave her."

Nessa continued to diddle with her bared bosom.

"I said leave her be!" Elphaba shouted.

The butcher withdrew her knife and set it on the table, asking if Glinda required any further explanation. Glinda pulled her dress back over breast and said through a grimace, "No, thank you, my lady."

The blade was so dull, at first Glinda could only peel her own skin. Several times she bore down and the knife jumped and snagged her finger. Yelping, she would bring the cut to her mouth, sucking it, until Nessa would glower at her.

After a while, Glinda fell into a groove, peeling and chopping one potato after another and placing them into the pot. Nessa watched her, and Elphaba stared out the kitchen window. It looked as if the elder sister was waiting for someone. Was this place a prison for her too? The green woman was a mystery to her. She was cold and aloof, and yet her coldness was nothing like Nessarose's barbarity.

Glinda ladled the boiled potatoes onto a metal serving plate, placing them on the table. Elphaba went to the cabinets by the staircase and took out a pouch of salt. Nessarose grabbed the plates. Glinda's stomach rumbled. When had she eaten last? What did she even like to eat? Certainly not these bland horrid things. The potatoes sat there yellow and waxy. Yet her mouth salivated. Perhaps with the salt, she could swallow them down. Nessarose handed her a plate.

"I will have three," she said.

Glinda placed the potatoes on the dish. Then Elphaba gave her her plate and Glinda dressed it. As the two women took their seats, she looked up expecting to see another plate, but there was none. Elphaba who sat opposite of her seemed to be noticing the same thing.

"Where shall I sit, my lady?" Glinda asked Nessa.

The butcher seated at the head of the table, finished a bite of potato and asked,

"Sit?"

Elphaba slicing a potato on her own plate looked over at her sister.

"Yes, my lady," Glinda said.

"Does a cur sit at the master's table?" Nessa asked.

Elphaba dropped her fork. Glinda's eyebrows shot up, her lip curling. First a whore, now an animal?

"Well?" Nessarose prodded.

"No!" Glinda said.

"Where do dogs sit?" Nessa asked.

Glinda's pride kept her silent. Nessa, gripping her knife, rose from the table.

" _Where_ , I asked you, do they sit?" she repeated, pointing the knife at her.

Trembling with both fear and anger, Glinda said,

"On the floor."

"Correct. Now, take your seat," Nessa said, waiting.

"I'm hungry," Glinda said.

How those potatoes sparkled. Those little yellow treasures.

"Your mistress is not without mercy," Nessa said.

Glinda smiled with relief. Until Nessa gestured downward.

"You may eat the peels."

She gazed at the potato carvings cluttered like muddy leaves on the wooden floorboards.

"What do you say?"

"What?" Glinda breathed, close to tears.

"How do you respond to your mistress' kindness?" Nessa asked.

Glinda looked up. Elphaba's eyes were fixed on her plate, the muscles in her neck tense. Glinda turned to Nessa. The toad! How she gloated. Glinda wanted to throw the whole platter of potatoes at her, but in her state all she could do was mumble,

"Thank you, my lady."

Falling to her knees, she gazed at the sisters' dress-covered legs, trying to meditate her hunger away, and recall a memory of who she was. But, a thick whiteness, a cataracts of the soul, kept her mind shrouded.

After they finished, Nessa instructed Glinda to clean the kitchen. Wipe the windows. Stack the wood. Dust the kitchen. Mop the floorboards. Glinda worked tirelessly, hopping and limping to and fro, her shoulders and back aching as the sun set. Not one morsel of food passed her lips. The plate of left-over potatoes sat there, teasing her, mocking her, beckoning her. When Nessa and Elphaba came down for supper, Glinda served them again. They sat, salting and swallowing, until only one more potato was left.

The sisters retired to their rooms upstairs, leaving Glinda to clean the sink, by the light of the oil lantern. Finishing she turned to grab the lantern which rested on the kitchen table. She inched forward. It was the lamp she meant to grab. The lamp. But, instead a cold soft lump was wedged between her palms.

"Eat it at your peril," the butcher said behind her, coming down the stairs. "Or don't you believe I'll punish you again?"

Saliva pooled in Glinda's mouth as she clutched the morsel to her breast.

"Did you hear me?" Nessa screeched.

Glinda turned, her heart jip-japping, her stomach sore.

"No one wanted it," she said.

"Then throw it out the window," Nessarose said, coming face to face with her.

Waste it? Glinda couldn't. She just couldn't.

She braced herself for Nessa to yell at her but she smirked. Glinda's blood iced. She had smiled like that, just like that, before she— Glinda howled! Nessa had heaved the chair atop Glinda's wounded foot.

Glinda reached for the chair, potato flying, as she tried to lift it. But Nessa sat down. Glinda screamed. Elphaba rushed down the stairs.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"The thief tried to steal— _again_ ," Nessa said.

"Steal?" Elphaba asked, looking around the kitchen.

Glinda shook her head, the excruciating pain stitching her mouth shut.

"That potato over there—the slut almost ate it," Nessa said pointing toward the potato covered in wood splinters by the fireplace.

"And?" Elphaba asked, still perplexed by Glinda's tormented expression.

"I punished her of course," Nessa said.

Glinda groaned, biting her lip.

Elphaba looked down.

"Nessarose!" she hissed.

"What?" the butcher asked nonchalantly.

"Get up! You'll break her foot!" Elphaba said.

"I haven't the strength to break it. Although, I can't speak for the chair," Nessa said with a smirk, crossing her legs.

Elphaba rushed, pulled Nessa up, and tossed the chair aside. Glinda sank to the ground. Blood seeped through her bandages.

"What's come over you?" Elphaba asked.

"Me, sister? What's come over _you_? Are you worried about our Gillikinese thief?"

"It's _you_ I'm worried about."

"Well, you don't have to worry about me, not anymore. I can take care of myself," Nessa said.

"That's not what I mean. This isn't you. Something's happened to you!"

"Nothing's happened to me! In fact, from now on, I will happen to others."

"And, who might I ask will be responsible for carrying a lame Glinda after you _happen_ to her?"

"Didn't she show us she's capable of crawling?" Nessa asked.

Elphaba snorted, shaking her head.

On the floor, Glinda tried to wiggle her toes, but she couldn't push past the pain. Had the butcher broken her foot? What if she would never walk again? Right before she went into full panic, she was lifted off the floor. Elphaba's strong arms. Glinda gave into them. She tucked her face into Elphaba's neck, grateful for the semblance of care. She let herself be soothed by Elphaba's fragrance as she was carried upstairs and into Elphaba's room. Elphaba kneeled, setting her down on the floor. Grabbing a small blue wooden box on the window sill by the bed, Elphaba pulled out fresh cloth and a bottle of oil and went and kneeled back beside her. She took Glinda's bloodied foot in her hands. Glinda yelped. Elphaba's eyebrows shot up.

"Can you move it?" she asked.

Glinda tried again to wiggle her toes. Inhaling through her teeth, she shook her head. Elphaba gently unwrapped the bandages and treated the injury with her oils. Glinda brought her fingernails up to her mouth, looking away at the pile of blood.

"Try again," Elphaba said.

Glinda dithered. Biting her nails, her gaze flickered between Elphaba's serious eyes and her wounded foot. The Munchkinlander reached toward her face. Glinda flinched. Not another slap, please not another slap. Elphaba stopped, retracting her hand.

"I wasn't going to—I won't hit you, Glinda. I promise. Now, try again for me."

Glinda focused on Elphaba's worried eyes. Their sudden softness let her catch her breath. Just a wiggle. That's all Elphaba wanted. Just one more try. Hands by her side, she pushed, biting her lip at the pain, until slowly all her toes curved.

"Well done, Glinda!" Elphaba said and Glinda gave a shy smile, elated her foot worked and pleased at the sound of pride in Elphaba's voice. It was the first kind word she heard as Glinda. But, at her smile, Elphaba's face lost its mirth. Glinda's heart sank.

The Munchkinlander finished the bandages in silence. Glinda thanked her, but Elphaba said nothing as she got into bed. Glinda curled on her side, putting her hands under her head. Closing her eyes, she thought of the spot of tenderness that passed between them. Underneath Elphaba's callous exterior was a decency that Glinda, despite not remembering a soul, not even her own, knew to be very rare.

The next couple of days fell into each other. Glinda's activities varied little. She would peel potatoes, dress the sisters' plates, then clean. Clean the plates, the floor, the walls, the windows. While Nessa hurled insults at her and refused to let her eat even the greenest of potatoes, telling her there were still plenty of peels, which Glinda, utterly ravenous, still managed to refuse. In between Glinda's more arduous work, Nessa assigned her menial tasks: combing Nessa's hair, massaging her back, filing her toenails. The butcher didn't hesitate to let Glinda know when she thought her careless. She might kick Glinda in the jaw. Or pull her hair, warning her to be careful if she wanted to keep her curls. But Nessa never abused her like she had the first two days. Elphaba wouldn't let her. Whenever Nessa's beatings exceeded a crisp slap or swift kick, Elphaba would call Nessarose's name in a tone that brooked no refusal. Nessa responded with shrugs and eye rolls, yet always relented.

Beyond these instances, Elphaba barely acknowledged Glinda. Their interactions consisted of Elphaba wordlessly escorting her in and out of the cabin, Glinda dressing her plate, and Elphaba sleeping with her back to her. Mostly, Elphaba would stand by the kitchen window, keeping watch. Waiting for a what or whom that never came.

In the rare instances, Glinda felt Elphaba's gaze, she would look up to see Elphaba's eyes always landing somewhere else. Oh, how she wished Elphaba didn't hate her. Then she might have someone to talk to. Presently, her conversations were limited to, "Yes, my lady." "It's finished, my lady." "May I go outside my lady?" How long could she live like this? Her company had still not come for her. Would they ever? Didn't anyone want her? Didn't anyone miss her? Was she loved by no one? If they didn't come back with those jewels, Glinda would have to escape. She couldn't stay in this cabin forever. But, she also couldn't run away like this, with no memory of herself, no knowledge of the outside world, injured, without an ozent to her name, in the dead of winter. Until either friend or self returned, she would have to manage here, at the very least until it grew warm again. If she didn't waste away from hunger before then.

Leaning on the broom stick, she caught her breath and swiped curls out of her eyes. Elphaba stood rigid, in her spot by the window, her teeth grinding, her hands clutching her skirt. Glinda remembered Elphaba's words. _You took everything from this family—everything!_ What exactly were those jewels? Dowries for the sisters? With Nessa's disposition and Elphaba's discoloration what a steep sum it must have been. Exhaling, Glinda bowed her head and returned to sweeping.

In the afternoon, Elphaba took Glinda to the barn to clean, while she led the goats out to graze.

Elphaba's scent lingered. Some of the woman's oils must have gotten onto her dress. Glinda inhaled, trying to suck up as much as she could. Remember. Remember. Where had she smelt this before? This intoxicating sharp scent. Intoxicating? Was that what Elphaba was? Strange, aloof, biting, and— _intoxicating_? Glinda's mind listed its proof. The gentleness of her green fingers. The guarded softness of her eyes. The protective strength of her arms. The hint of a memory in her scent. The forminable beauty of her features. The disarming sound of her voice. The hidden kindness behind her expressions. The door opened. Elphaba must have forgotten something. Glinda turned. The butcher stood there instead. Glinda's eyes fell, pulling her stomach with them.

"A smile? Was that meant for my sister?" Nessa asked. "Does she please you?"

Had she been smiling?

Nessa careened to the far wall. Heading for the sheers. Glinda's stomach turned. Elphaba wasn't here. She was alone in the barn. And Nessa was grabbing a sharp instrument. Nessarose headed toward her at a bludgeoning speed. Here it was. Her end. Cut into little pieces by the psychotic butcher of Munchkinland. Glinda cowered, shutting her eyes, bracing for impact, inhaling a prayer.

Until she heard a cackle. The butcher had come to a halt, a few inches from her, a hand on her belly, convulsing with laughter.

"What about my sister courts your interest?" Nessa said, straightening, tapping the sheers in her palm.

Glinda bit her lip. There were many things about Elphaba that solicited Glinda's attention, But what made Glinda smile must be...Elphaba's...out-of-place...

"If you don't answer me, I'll make that smile of yours permanent," Nessa said, raising her sheers.

"Her goodness!" Glinda said, the tips of her fingers tingling.

"Her goodness?" Nessa asked.

Repeated, it sounded foolish. Why had she said it? And, said it to Nessarose, a creature devoid of any goodness. _Elphaba—come back. Come back to me._ Glinda silently prayed. But something else came instead. Or rather slid. Slid from between her thighs as she pressed them forcefully together.

"My lady," Glinda said, her chin trembling.

Nessa glared, still not over her first surprise.

Of all people to ask.

"Might I have a bit of cloth?"

"Cloth?"

Glinda nodded.

"What need have you for cloth?" Nessa asked.

"My—my course has started, my lady," Glinda stuttered, a tingling filling her cheeks.

Nessa's rosewood lips sneered.

"Your course? How unfortunate. Because you will not be taking one more thing from this family!"

"A scrap. Surely you can spare a scrap."

"If it's only a scrap, surely _you_ can spare one," Nessa said.

Glinda didn't have anything except the clothes on her back. No, she couldn't mean—

The butcher seized the front of her dress.

"No, my lady, don't!"

But Nessa cut into it, chopping haphazardly, tearing down the front of it, revealing most of Glinda's breasts. Pushing Glinda back, Nessa held up the chunk of cloth. Glinda's hand flew to her chest, a burning blush rising up her neck as the broom bounced against the wooden floor.

"Here's your scrap. You can have it after you finish cleaning."

"But I can't wait until then, I'll have bl—" Glinda stopped, her voice cracking.

"You'll have what?"

It pained her to say it, to bow herself and beg this Munchkinlander, but the alternative was even more unbearable. "Please," Glinda said, feeling altogether out of character, "I pray you let me fix myself. I shall clean the barn until morning if you just allow me to clean myself."

"You either scrub this barn now or you can stuff yourself with straw," Nessa said and walked to the edge of the wall, waving the piece of her dress as she went.

Glinda felt it again. Sliding. Down her leg. There was nothing she could do, nothing but submit to this indignity. So she swept, forbidding tears to fall, willing herself not to heave as her dress checkered red and beige. It felt like a season had passed in that barn, being watched by Nessarose as her body tarnished herself. When she heard Elphaba's voice with two others, she was on her knees, scrubbing the floors, her dress wide open, stained completely, smelling abominably. She shook her head. She couldn't be seen like this. Not by Elphaba.

"You seemed to have missed a spot. Several actually," Nessa said pointing to her splotched dress.

Elphaba's voice was coming closer. Glinda started to tremble. She couldn't get away. Couldn't get away.

The door opened.

"We have some guests—" Elphaba announced to her sister, but stopped mid-sentence and shut the door behind her and yelled. "Boq, Pfannee! Please wait there."

Glinda was too ashamed to look up. Too ashamed to be caught like this.

"Is everything all right?" a man's voice asked outside the barn.

"Just fine," Elphaba shouted through the door, before she hissed to Nessa, "What have you done to her now?"

"The Fair Glinda to be saved again by her gallant protector," Nessa said.

"What did you say?" Elphaba growled.

"That's what you are, aren't you my dear sister? The charming protector of our Gillikinese whore?"

Glinda glanced up to catch Elphaba's anguished expression.

"Is that what this about? By not torturing her, I've betrayed Munchkinland?"

"Haven't you? You don't even care what's she's done to us!"

"No one knows better than I what she's done!" Elphaba shouted and Nessa winced. "Don't think it out of betrayal or even sympathy for her that I don't beat her to death myself," Elphaba said, "It's because I feel farther away from Munchkinland, farther away from Father, farther away from myself in such moments. The Gillikinese have taken our homes, our lives, our—our bodies. They've tried to destroy us, and if you go down this path, you will give them what little pieces of us are left."

"But, that's just it. I'm no longer in pieces; I've been made whole. A whole self, full of the virtues that our Father taught us — justice, righteousness, and judgment. Don't you see? The Unnamed God has given us this miracle to make things right. To institute a radical equality. The Gillikinese took from us, and now we shall take from them!"

"How are we to become equal? How can you raise them to our suffering without lowering us to their depravity?" Elphaba asked.

"Elphaba, I'm speaking of justice not a seesaw," Nessa said.

"Are you two coming out anytime soon?" a female's voice yelled through the door.

"We will continue this after Boq and Pfannee leave," Elphaba said to Nessa. "Now, distract them with _your miracle_ while I see to Glinda and think of some way to explain this."

"Very well. Try not to defile yourself with that mess," Nessa said, taking Glinda's scrap with her outside.

"By the Unnamed God! You're walking Nessarose! Walking!" a man said.

"Lurline's tits, the tadpole limps before us a frog!" a woman exclaimed.

Elphaba shut the door.

 _The Gillikinese have taken our homes, our lives...our bodies. They've tried to destroy us._ A war. It was coming back to Glinda. Gillikin had conquered Munchkinland. A victory. Yet, to hear Elphaba and Nessa speak of it, it felt less a victory than an incrimination. Nessa's fury while ever heinous, lost its capriciousness. So it wasn't just the jewels. It was what Glinda's theft represented. A looting. A destruction. A Gillikinese entitlement. Was the war what brought the two sisters here, to a bleak cabin, to a life of boiled potatoes? Just whose lives, whose bodies were lost to Elphaba?

Elphaba turned to her. As their eyes met, Glinda's chest burned. She kept silent, still on all fours, brush in hand. Perhaps Elphaba would leave her be, leave her to clean her dress in private. Turn away. Look away. Don't come near.

But, Elphaba came near anyway, kneeling beside her.

"Where has she cut you?" she asked just above a whisper.

"She hasn't."

"Your dress is torn. You're bleeding. She must have—" Elphaba inhaled sharply and Glinda blushed even harder.

"Just a bit of cloth. That's all I need. I'll wash my dress, my lady," Glinda said.

"Stay here," Elphaba said, rising.

As if Glinda was planning on hobbling somewhere like this. Elphaba left and Glinda waited. For several short minutes. Then several very long minutes. Had Elphaba forgotten her? Perhaps she would only come once her guests departed? But finally, the door opened and Elphaba had a white dress over her arm and carried a bucket with some cloth, oil and a feminine belt.

"Take off your dress. You can wear this one instead. I've brought oils for you to wash with and trimmed the bottom of the dress for some extra cloth."

Glinda nodded and stood up.

Elphaba's gaze traveled over her body. Glinda covered her breasts, with her arms, turning to her side.

"Turn away," Glinda said.

Elphaba was caught up somewhere else.

"Turn away while I wash myself, my lady" Glinda repeated.

"Show me how you bathe yourself," Elphaba said, in a strange faraway voice.

Elphaba wanted to watch her? Glinda felt dizzy, a cold sweat on neck. Embarrassed, Glinda shook her head.

"Take off your dress," Elphaba said with glassy eyes.

"My lady," Glinda whispered.

Their eyes met.

"Please," Glinda breathed, hoping for tender Elphaba, noble Elphaba, kind Elphaba to return.

As if awaking from a dream, Elphaba dropped the bucket, flung the dress in it, and turned around.

Glinda tore off her dress, her arm sticking twice as she tried to wrench free of it. The tattered cloth fell to the floor and she cleaned. Wiped her thighs. Between her legs. Adjusted the cloth belt. And pulled out the dress. It was clean, except for a single mud streak on the side. The bust area would be snug, but she could leave the top buttons undone. The neck of the dress was long enough that it would hide most of her collar. Cleaned and dressed, Glinda breathed deeply, her muscles thawing, her shoulders loosening.

"Are you decent?" Elphaba asked.

"Yes, my lady," Glinda said and followed behind Elphaba as they moved into the cabin. Nessa was standing by the fireplace and two guests sat at the table, a new basket on it, along with a bottle of mead.

"Oh, isn't Nessa's miracle grand, Elphaba!" a very short man, with liverish hair declared. His face was soft, boyishly so, yet the stubble on his chin and the soft lines by his eyes told Glinda he was likely in his early twenties. He paused as his eyes landed on her. His gaze raking her from head to toe, oscillating between her finer features. His mouth parted. Desire. Glinda knew that look. She was sure she had seen it on others before. A short blonde woman rose from her seat beside him. Munchkins, both of them. They came close, peering at her. Glinda held back a flinch, as the blonde woman felt her dress. Glinda had been living with Munchkinlanders, but these were Munchkins. Dwarfish commoners with poor postures and muddied clothes, and without any sort of sophistication or restraint.

"I've never seen a living Gillikinese this close. She does look a good deal different than I imagined. Are all Gillikinese women this top heavy?"

Glinda blushed at the open discussion of her bosom.

"Pfannee!" Boq squealed, elbowing the woman in the ribs, "We're very pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Glinda." He extended his hand.

Glinda hesitated. She was pleased someone smiled at her, even this deformed Munchkin, but taking his hand in her ungloved one seemed indecorous.

" _Miss Glinda?_ " Nessa chirped, "Such formalities are unnecessary for a Gillikinese!"

Boq colored with embarrassment; Glinda took his hand before he could retract it. She couldn't afford to waste kindness here. Glove or no glove. He smiled shyly, his stubby fingers giving her hand a gentle squeeze before releasing it.

"You might wash your hands," Nessa said. "She's a thief."

"But, Miss Glinda is working to make amends, aren't you?" Boq said.

Glinda was about to nod. Until Elphaba spoke.

"There's no amending what she's done."

Elphaba's words cut. The four were momentarily silent while the the tall woman retreated to her kitchen window. The conversation picked up again, but Glinda couldn't hear them, her eyes were on Elphaba. Was there nothing to diminish Elphaba's contempt of her?

"Oh, please say you'll come Miss Glinda!" Boq said.

"Pardon?" Glinda said, looking back at the three.

"He wants you to come to our dance," Pfannee said.

Glinda looked to Nessa who threw her a murderous glare.

"The Weavers wouldn't actually welcome a Gillikinese thief, would they?" Nessa asked.

"If we can learn to live by the side of our old masters, I'm sure we can make room for another thief, Gillikinese and all. The boys will definitely appreciate her," Pfannee said, admiring her chest again.

"Pfannee!" Boq squealed, before taking a breath and turning to Glinda, "Say you'll come with us?"

A dance? Could she dance? Would she even be able to with her foot? She might try a step. Just the thought of being out of this cabin gave her a thrill.

"I—"

"Can't," Nessa said.

"Can't?" Boq asked.

"She's having her course," Nessa announced.

Glinda felt an icy-hot blush fill her.

"Course?" Boq asked.

"She's on the moss," Pfannee translated.

Boq reddened. Glinda's breath left her. To be humiliated like this in front of a man, in front of Elphaba. Boq tucked his chin down and crossed his hands behind his back.

"Perhaps next time, Miss Glinda," Boq said.

"If you run out of blood moss, come see us. We've plenty," Pfannee said with a proud smile.

Glinda was too overwhelmed with embarrassment and now disgust to respond.

"And, she hasn't finished her chores," Nessa said, getting up, "But, I would be pleased to join you both."

"Splendid, Nessa! Elphaba, will you be joining us?" Boq asked.

The tall Munchkinlander remained silent.

"Oy, canker-blossom! Will we have the burden of your presence toni—" Pfannee called.

"No," Elphaba said without turning around.

"My sister's never much cared for dances," Nessa said.

With that, the three Munchkinlanders left. Nessa held onto Boq's arm as they strolled out the door. Boq looked over his shoulder, smiling at Glinda, eyes twinkling, as she looked at them longingly from the doorway. Closing the door, Glinda turned and saw Elphaba walking up the stairs. Glinda sighed. Another silent night.

She finished sweeping the kitchen, took the lamp, and limped upstairs. She opened Elphaba's door and found the woman curled on the bed, a few boiled potatoes in a towel on her lap. Her attention consumed by the book in her hands. A book. Glinda's eyes grew. Elphaba looked up, and the questions burst from Glinda's lips before she could stop herself.


	11. Chapter 11

What was wrong with her? Here was Elphaba's chance. To repay that conniving, contorting, little heartless wretch. Yet, Glinda's gaunt cheeks only reminded her of her first week at Runcible. Nessa's perverse game with Glinda's breast only brought back Gillikin's ballroom. Their torturous equivalences didn't balance. They didn't negate. Vengeance didn't destroy. It multiplied, amplifying painful memories, not quieting them.

Elphaba was supposed to feel clean, light— _even_. She didn't. Because it wasn't Galinda whom she was harming. It was Glinda. A woman with no recollection of her crimes. What good was it to bruise Galinda's body, if her soul couldn't remember? The doctrine of the soul was a lie. It was how the Unionist Church bamboozled Ozians to accept a life of poverty, here and now, for a chance of a beautiful then and there. This she knew. Or, thought she knew, before she witnessed the difference, widening like a chasm, between Galinda and Glinda. Not only was Glinda's memory different, but the wretch moved differently, as if possessed by another spirit. It wasn't just the limp. No. She bit her nails. Shook the hands of Munchkins. And, her face. It had softened. The way she looked. At her. Elphaba recognized the curiosity, but not its restraint. Galinda gawked, but Glinda admired. What untimely devotion. Glinda's kindness exhausted her. For Elphaba might have dulled herself to Galinda's sufferings; the Princess deserved every bit of it after all. But, did Glinda?

Oh how Yackle mangled her wishes! She no longer cared if the Princess was punished. She just wanted Galinda gone, disappeared, felled off the face of Oz. And, more importantly, she needed that fairy godmother to deliver on her third wish. How could she have ever felt the slightest relief at not seeing Shell in the barn? What she wouldn't give to have him back now, to see that cocky bright smile, to hear him promise everything would be all right. Could anything ever be right after this? What she wouldn't do, if only she could see him again. But, that afternoon neither her brother, nor Yackle appeared.

Instead, Elphaba had found Pfannee and Boq on her way home and then Glinda and Nessa. Glinda was scrubbing the barn floor, soaked in her own blood. Nessa watched gleefully, a pair of sheers waving in her hand. Her dear Nessarose. While Galinda's transformation had been instant, Nessarose was in the middle of a rot, her smiles molding, her delight cankering, her nightly prayers putrefying into passionate maledictions.

When Nessa left for the dance, Elphaba crept upstairs, leaving Glinda in the kitchen, as she snuck into Nessa's room, into their trunk, pushing past clothing, her satchel of writing utensils, Nessa's prayer book, the Munchkin royal seal, a box of her mother's rings, until she found the red book. Her father had given the book of fairy tales to Nessa last Lurlinemas. Perhaps it might have stories of Yackle. She brought it to her room and sat on her bed, a towel of salted potatoes saved from the morning on her lap. She was scanning the table of contents when Glinda interrupted.

"My lady can read? But, how?"

Elphaba flinched. Couldn't she get one moment away from her! She gave Glinda a withering look. Glinda covered her mouth with a hand and closed the door behind her. She took her space on the floor, but she didn't lie down. She sat. Her inquisitive eyes fixed on the book. Elphaba's jaw tightened. She closed the cover and slapped the book on the window sill, tossing the potatoes on top of it, and scooted into bed. She would never be stared at by those eyes without her permission again. As she lay, covers over her head, eyes scrunched shut, her back to the Princess, she could only hope for a different tomorrow.

She fell into a deep dreamless sleep, awaking only briefly when she heard voices downstairs.

"You must dance with us next time!"

"Yes, perhaps I might try, but only if you'll be there to guide me, my dearest Boq.

"Of course I will!"

"Good night."

"Fresh dreams, Nessa."

"Fresh dreams."

The next morning, Elphaba awoke to find Glinda on her knees, glancing up through her eyelashes, with that pleading look. This was their morning pattern. Elphaba would wake, take Glinda out for her morning necessities, escort the blonde to the kitchen, and leave her to the potatoes while she retreated to her window.

Now as she stood in the kitchen, she imagined Shell coming over the mountain, waving to her, grinning like he always did. At any moment, he could. He would. He had to. She missed him.

Nessa came downstairs, humming a song their father used to sing to himself on Saturday mornings. Elphaba turned to see her take a seat at the kitchen table, smiling.

She hadn't seen her sister smile like this since coming to Gillikin.

"Good morning!" Nessa sing-songed.

"Good morning. Did you enjoy yourself?" Elphaba asked.

Glinda looked over from her spot, standing by the fireplace.

"Oh, it was absolutely lovely. They've asked me to return," Nessa said grinning.

Elphaba nodded. Glinda seemed all ears as she peeled, waiting for Nessa to say more. Nessarose was only too eager. She went on about the music, the men, the dresses, the food, the toasts. At the mention of nutmeg milk, Elphaba felt her stomach growl.

"There's to be another dance in two days. Won't you come?" Nessa asked.

Glinda's eyes darted to her.

"No," she said. She was in no mood to celebrate. Nutmeg milk or not.

"It's Boq's birthday!" Nessa said. "And, he's done so much for me."

"Then you go," Elphaba said.

"I told them you would sing."

"Why?"

"No one sings like you," Nessa said. "Let them hear you. Let them see the majesty of Munchkin's royal family!"

Glinda blinked, her gaze bouncing between the two sisters. Elphaba's heart stopped. Had Glinda remembered who she was? The blonde's eyes didn't harden into Galinda's. They seemed to fill with even deeper adoration. Had her defunct royal status impressed her? Was there nothing to stave the waves of Glinda's good will?

"You must sing for them!" Nessa pleaded, walking toward her.

When Elphaba was a child, she loved the sound of her voice. Singing made her feel strong, invincible, transcendent. Yet, when she reached fifteen summers, her father took her gift and gave it to Munchkinland. He made her sing for official festivals, royal ceremonies, banquets, and religious feasts. She had resented him for it, even while reveling in her power to transform the guests' disgust at her skin into wonder at her talent. Yet even that resentment couldn't compare to how little she felt singing Gillikin's anthems veiled in that dowdy cloth. The notes rusted her mouth. There was no music after Gillikin.

"Oh please, just one song for Boq!" Nessa whined.

"You know I don't like dances," Elphaba said.

"They're expecting you! What shall I say to them?"

"Say you shouldn't have promised what wasn't yours to give."

Nessa huffed and said,

"He's not coming back."

"What did you say?" Elphaba asked, her eyes narrowing.

"Isn't it obvious? You don't need to keep watch. Shell's abandoned us. He'd rather be alone than carry us as a burden."

Is that what Nessa thought? Is that why she was so angry? The only men who loved her left her.

"Nessy, I'm sure he wants to be with us."

"If he had, he would have returned with you after the—" Nessa paused, glancing at Glinda whose glance fell to the potatoes, "— _accusation_."

How could she begin to tell Nessa what really made Shell leave?

"If only he would have waited," Nessa continued, "He could have seen—seen what I've become. I wouldn't be a burden to him anymore. He would have stayed. Don't you think?"

It was all Elphaba's fault. She had made her brother leave. How could she tell Nessa this? At her silence, Nessa looked hurt. She bolted up the stairs.

"Nessarose!" Elphaba called.

Elphaba turned to catch Glinda staring. That stare! She lunged across the kitchen, grabbing the collar of Glinda's dress, shaking her, until the blonde dropped her knife, her jaw falling open. Elphaba wanted to choke her, beat her head against the wall, squeeze the light right out of her. Her fists tightened. She pulled Glinda to her toes. Glinda's eyes grew glossy with fright.

"Why did you do it to him, to me? Why did you ruin us? _Why_?" she hissed, joggling her.

Wide-eyed and open-mouthed, Glinda looked lost. Elphaba stopped. What was she doing? This was Glinda. And, if Glinda remembered Galinda, it would be the end of them all. Elphaba's pop of anger sizzled into a somber heaviness. She released the blonde and wrapped her arms around herself. Glinda kneeled, picked up her knife, shuffled to the corner, and peeled in one determined stroke after another, her hands shaking, her head bowed.

After breakfast, Elphaba took off for the wishing tree. The frost abated, creating icy puddles and quagmires that Elphaba had to maneuver, jumping, lurching, and leaning to keep dry. When she arrived at the wishing tree, out of breath and with a cough, all was quiet. From inside the leaves, Elphaba called to Yackle so many times her throat grew scratchy, but the fairy godmother remained invisible. Damn that fairy godwitch! Elphaba took a seat on a rock under the tree. She could wait, for days even, if that's what it took.

The winds grew bolder, rustling the branches, pushing her off balance. Elphaba shivered, coughing until her chest prickled with pain. The sun set and the gusts kept coming, ushering in dark clouds. She thought she heard Nessa's voice in the east gales. She listened but all went quiet. Elphaba head ached. A pain stretched its roots into her neck and shoulders. She wouldn't give up. She would make things right. She would fix this. She would bring him home. She looked into the heavens.

"Oh, Father, why did you leave us?" she whispered.

Silence. Lifeless starry silence.

She shook her head with a snort. Did she think he would be listening somewhere? She was alone. No one was coming. But, then she saw it. Beyond the leaves. Someone _had_ come! She rushed and opened the branches.

There was Glinda, huddled, teeth clattering, an oil lamp in hand.

"My lady!"

"What are you doing here?"

"Lady Nessarose went to look for you, but she hasn't come back. It's been several candle marks. I worried something might have happened."

Nessa! Of course, her sister would worry. In trying to summon her brother she had lost her sister. She was the fool of all fools.

"Give me the lantern," she said, taking it from Glinda and hurrying in the direction of the east winds. Glinda hobbled behind.

"Nessa, where are you?" Elphaba called out.

The forest was dark, the branches scrapping like fingernails at her clothes and face.

"Nessarose!" Elphaba called.

"My lady!" Glinda sounded.

Elphaba startled at Glinda's voice. She was helping her. Helping her find a woman who had tortured her and left her to hang. The old Galinda would have never done that. For Oz's sake, even she wouldn't have aided if she were in Glinda's position. Elphaba shook her head. This was no time to think on Glinda.

"Nessarose! Are you there?" Elphaba called.

"Elphaba?" Nessa sounded from the darkness.

"Nessy, where are you?"

"Elphaba, I've lost my slipper," she called. "It's fallen into a pond!"

A pond?! Elphaba halted, looking down for the start of the water.

"There!" Glinda said pointing to Nessarose who sat a few feet away, on her knees, at the foot of a small body of water that looked closer to a bog than a pond, a blown-out lantern beside her.

"I tripped and one of my slippers came off and fell in. I was looking for _you_! Fetch it for me, Elphaba."

Elphaba couldn't see the slipper in the thick chilly black water. Her skin goosebumped. She could feel Shell's mouth by her ear as he pushed against her. Forced himself in. She covered her mouth to block her whimper. She couldn't go into that water. Nessa knew she couldn't.

"Nessa, my allergy," she whispered.

"I need those slippers! Isn't it time you get over your water theatrics?" Nessa shouted.

She couldn't. She couldn't feel _that_ again. She wouldn't survive it. Not this time. She shook her head, stepping back, clutching her skirt, quailing.

"An allergy to water?" Glinda asked, her head tilting.

Elphaba couldn't breathe. She started coughing.

"Elphaba! Help me!" Nessa screeched. "I shall never forgive you, if you don't!"

She was the oldest. Why couldn't she protect her sister? Protect her brother? She failed them. It was her fault. She made Shell afraid to come home. What a disgrace. What a depraved, worthless, dirty little monster.

"I'll fetch it," Glinda volunteered.

"What?" Nessa asked.

"I'll get my lady's slipper," Glinda said.

Elphaba and Nessa stared at her. Trembling, Glinda looked determined.

"I'll go instead," she repeated to herself.

"The water's freezing," Elphaba said.

Glinda nodded and then unbuttoned her dress, as if that's what Elphaba had meant. Holding the sides of her open garment, Glinda looked at Elphaba, biting her lip. Was she really going to do this for Nessa?

"Please," Glinda pleaded.

Elphaba inhaled, set down her lantern, and scooped up Nessa. She turned their backs to Glinda. Elphaba heard Glinda's dress fall. Then she heard a splash, a gasp, and a yelp. She turned back, but Glinda had already disappeared into the chilly deep.

"Glinda!" Elphaba called, setting her sister down, kneeling by the edge of the pond, eyeing the still water. Had she been pulled down into a sand pit? Had the coldness cramped her muscles?

This was what Elphaba wanted, wasn't it? The Princess disappeared. Felled. _Drowned_ off the face of Oz.

"My slipper! Oh, hurry, bring back my slipper," Nessa whined.

Elphaba's heart ticked-ticked. The pond was chillingly serene. Was this it? Was this the end of her and Galinda? How ordinary. How uneventful. How empty she still felt.

PHSHAFF!

Glinda's hand popped out of the water, clutching a red slipper.

"There it is! Elphaba, get it!" Nessa shouted.

Elphaba wrapped the bottom of her skirt around her hand and grabbed Glinda's wrist and pulled. Hard. She faltered backward as a naked, dripping Glinda popped out of the water, coughing and gasping, slipper falling from her hand as she reached for her dress. Nessa snatched the red shoe and slipped it on. Holding onto Elphaba's arm, Nessa pulled herself to a stand.

Glinda fumbled with her dress, shivering. Once clothed, she turned around, looking bashful, waiting for the two sisters to say something. Elphaba didn't know what to say. Glinda had been been brave, selfless, so thoroughly unGalinda like. She should thank her. It was the least she could offer to someone who risked her life for a slipper. But Elphaba couldn't. She couldn't see those blue eyes and offer anything close to gratitude.

She pursed her lips. Glinda frowned. Nessa sighed.

"Elphaba, honestly, what were you doing all day?" her sister asked.

"I'm sorry I worried you. Lets go back. It's about to rain," Elphaba said and picked up her lamp. Coughing, she led the two back to the cabin. At the front door, Elphaba clutched the door handle and pulled, but fatigue had eroded her strength.

"Let me, my lady," Glinda said. Their eyes met again. That damned blue tenderness. Elphaba couldn't hold it. She nodded, covering her mouth as she choked through a cough. Glinda opened the door.

Elphaba rushed in, stumbled up the stairs, peeled off her clothes, and entered her bedroom in time to collapse on her bed. She heard Glinda enter behind her and closed her eyes. In the morning, Elphaba was too sore to move. She was hot and sweaty. Each part of her throbbed. She blinked to see Glinda squeezing her legs together by the wall.

"My lady, please may we—" Glinda stopped mid-sentence, shut her eyes, and bit her lip, fighting her need.

Nodding, Elphaba stood. Then staggered. Her head felt awfully light and yet too heavy at the same time. Glinda rose and caught her elbow, her other arm circling round her back.

Elphaba's breath swerved into a croup. Her chest burned. She tried to take a step and then realized she wasn't standing. She was leaning, entirely on Glinda.

"My lady should lie down."

Elphaba nodded, a hand coming to her forehead. It was hot. Laying on the bed, she eyed the blonde, standing before her, thighs pressed together. Glinda was never let outside the house or barn without either Nessa or herself. She could order Glinda to pee in front of her. It would suit the circumstance.

The sight of Glinda standing there, her face blushing at her intimate need, her body kept in unconditional obedience, her relief Elphaba's alone to grant, made Elphaba feel a strange warmth in the pit of her stomach. Elphaba cringed. When had such baseness seeded in her soul? Glinda whimpered, chewing her lip, her legs twisting, her hands clutching at her thighs to fight the pressure. The warmth in her sizzle-sizzled. She needed Glinda away, fast.

"Go outside and come back," Elphaba said.

"Thank you, my lady. I'll be only a moment."

Opening her eyes, Glinda hobbled out the door. How could Elphaba feel even the slightest arousal watching Glinda like that. Her head pounded. It must be the illness. It had to be. She fell back into sleep, seeing all sorts of strange dreams. Glinda wearing only her collar, scrubbing the kitchen floor, her bared breasts swaying like pendulums. Nessa pulling Glinda's dress off from behind. A naked Glinda kneeling before her bed, holding her breasts, asking if she could help.

When Elphaba awoke, Glinda was on her knees, asking her something. Elphaba shrieked. Glinda winced. Thank Oz it wasn't her dream. Glinda was fully clothed, in her hands a plate of boiled potatoes, no breasts. Elphaba's stomach rolled at the sight of food. She covered her mouth and shook her head. She needed to wash down her nausea.

"Milk," she said.

"Milk?" Glinda asked.

She nodded.

"From the goats?" Glinda asked.

"Yes!" Elphaba hissed.

"You mean you want me to milk them?"

Hell and hell! What was so difficult about her request?

"Nessa can show you how," Elphaba said.

Glinda blinked several times, her voice shrill as she said,

"I can do it, myself, my lady."

Elphaba hesitated, looking at Glinda's pale face. How would the Princess of Gillikin know how to milk a goat?

"I beg you don't make me ask Lady Nessa. I shall manage."

Elphaba recalled Nessa's reaction last time Glinda asked for instructions.

"Very well," Elphaba said.

Glinda rose and said,

"Thank you, my lady. I shan't disappoint you."

Hours later Glinda returned with a glass of warm milk that she pressed to Elphaba's lips. Elphaba could smell Glinda's sweat. Her expression anxious. Her hands shaking.

"Are you well?" Elphaba rasped.

Glinda nodded, but the look in her eyes told Elphaba otherwise.

"I'll leave my lady's milk near the bed. I must go down and finish my chores. Lady Nessa has insisted that I do them before I check on you again. If my lady needs anything, please call for me, I shall come straight away," Glinda said.

Elphaba was too sick, too bewildered at Glinda's tenderness, to do more than nod. Glinda walked to the doorway, looking back at her with concern, and then shut the door.

In a few minutes the door flew open, Nessarose stood with her arms crossed over her chest as she said,

"So you _are_ sick. I had assumed the whore lied to get out of her chores."

"I'm only a bit weathered from yesterday," Elphaba lied.

"Where were you all day?"

"The wishing tree," Elphaba breathed, "I—"

"Went looking for Shell, didn't you?"

Elphaba nodded.

"Am I not enough for you either?"

"Nessa, it's not that. It's—" Elphaba's breath tottered into a coughing fit.

Nessa sighed loudly. "Get your rest. Boq's party's tomorrow and if you're still sick I won't be able to go. Today, I shall see that Glinda doesn't shirk her chores," Nessa said, closing the door behind her.

Boq's party. Was that all Nessa cared about? Elphaba thought on the two women's responses to her. To think that Glinda could be sweeter to her than her own sister. This must be Yackle's doing. She must have changed them. Tonight she would find her and make her answer. She only needed a little nap.

Elphaba slept. Glinda came and went. The jingle of her collar rousing Elphaba, letting her know milk was coming. Evening passed. Then morning. Then midday again.

"Elphaba, are you doing this to spite me? To punish me for telling them you would sing," Nessa demanded by her bedside.

Elphaba couldn't speak. Her skin burned with heat. Every twitch felt like a punch. She closed her eyes again. She woke. Glinda was kneeling by her bed, mumbling.

"Eternal Lurline of the heavens, look on us your lowly ... be our light in ... make speed to heal Lady Elphaba. Unnamed God in whom art the cosmos..., have mercy upon Lady Elphaba, heal her infirmities and...strengthen her in all goodness..."

Then to end her murmurs, Glinda whispered,

"My lady, I pray don't leave me here. Don't leave me with Lady Nessa."

Another two days came and went in much the same way. Glinda no longer slept by the wall, but instead she lay right below her bed, waking up several times a night to check on her. The third evening, Elphaba asked Glinda to bring potatoes and milk. Glinda nodded, enthusiastic that Elphaba's appetite returned.

Elphaba waited for Glinda, her head pounding, a searing heat flooding her eyes. What was keeping that woman? Elphaba's body shook with a feverish chill. Finally Glinda came, with none of her prior excitement, nor any potatoes. Kneeling by her bed, she kept silent, her eyes vacant, her face blushing as she raised the cup of milk to Elphaba's lips. Except it wasn't a blush on her cheek; it was a bruise. A fresh maroon welt covered Glinda's right cheek below her eye. _Nessarose_!

Elphaba glanced over Glinda's face, for other spots her sister might have placed her anger. It was hard to see by the dim light of the fire. Turning on her side, Elphaba propped herself up and reached out, sliding a finger under Glinda's chin to raise it.

"Are you hurt anywhere else?"

Glinda looked at her with empty eyes. Her hollow expression sank Elphaba's stomach. Elphaba knew that look. She recognized the weight of its emptiness, recalling the many times the Castle had gutted her.

"Has she hurt you anywhere else?" Elphaba repeated.

The blonde swallowed.

" _Glinda_."

"Please don't make me show you, my lady," she whispered.

Elphaba's heart skipped. What had Nessarose done to her? Nessa opened her door and came in. Glinda stiffened, her gaze falling, as she kept her position on her knees, with her back to the door.

"Has she told you?" Nessa asked, "Has she told you what's she done?"

"No, but I can see how you handled it," Elphaba said, pointing to Glinda's cheek.

"The slut tried to steal our potatoes, again! This time she blamed you. She said _you_ asked for them!"

"I _did_ ," Elphaba said.

Nessa's eyebrow rose.

"You should have told me. I wouldn't have had to spank her."

Elphaba glanced at Glinda. The blonde's eyes were panicking and a real blush covered both her cheeks.

"Spank her?" Elphaba asked.

"Yes, I had her bend over the table and raise her dress, before I took a hot ladle to her bottom.

Elphaba winced.

"Nessarose!" she said hoarsely.

"It would have ended sooner, but she was reluctant to apologize for her theft."

"She hadn't been stealing!" Elphaba said.

"Yes, well, how was I to know. And, let it be known, she didn't cry out, not once. I think she might have enjoyed it. The whore."

Glinda closed her eyes, her shoulders curling over her chest.

"Just bring me some potatoes," Elphaba said.

Her sister nodded and left.

"Gl—" Elphaba started.

"I didn't enjoy it, my lady," Glinda interrupted. "I didn't. I didn't enjoy it at all. I didn't—"

"I know," Elphaba cut in, placing her hand on top of Glinda's, rubbing her thumb across it.

Glinda glanced up, looking both embarrassed and grateful. Elphaba's words died in her throat. Was she about to console Glinda? This wasn't just any woman; this was the Princess of Gillikin. She deserved to feel frightened, ashamed, and broken. Didn't she? They held each other's gaze. The air becoming thick.

Nessarose opened the door, with a tray in her hands and a blanket over her arm. Elphaba pulled back. Glinda rose, her head bowed as Nessa set a tray of salted potatoes with a knife and fork beside Elphaba, placing the extra blanket on the corner of her bed. Elphaba's appetite faded again at the smell.

"Shall I feed you?" Nessa asked.

"I can feed myself," Elphaba said and Nessa nodded, stopping to glare at Glinda before she left the two alone. Once the door closed, Glinda knelt back beside her, eyes on her knees. Elphaba knew she should stop staring, stop feeling sorry for the blonde, but instead she blurted.

"You must be hungry?"

Glinda hesitated, keeping her gaze down, clearly uncertain of the correct answer.

"Aren't you?" Elphaba asked.

Glinda bit her lip and then whispered,

"Terribly so."

"My appetite has left. You might as well have this."

Glinda's gaze shot up, staring at Elphaba, questioning if she really meant it. Seeing Elphaba was serious, Glinda's face softened, her eyes growing thankful.

Don't. Don't look at me like that.

Elphaba cleared her throat, feeling her face heat, and said,

"Hurry, before she comes back."

Glinda sliced the potatoes and gobbled them down. Elphaba scooted into the covers and closed her eyes to be greeted by dark dreams. She was back in the castle, naked, and bound to that chair. In the corner stood Sir Chuffrey, her brother, and a strange man with a waxed black mustache. Galinda sat on her lap, sneering. Elphaba's bladder was full, but she couldn't get up. Galinda suckled her breast. The pressure was too strong. Galinda sucked and sucked until a warm stream left Elphaba below. Galinda's hand slid between her legs.

"Stop! Get off me!" she shouted, waking to find Glinda leaning over her, unbuttoning her gown.

Elphaba's sheets were slid down to her ankles. The Munchkinlander scooted into a sit so suddenly the room span. She snatched Glinda's wrists in a panic, eyes bulging, legs kicking. Her mind groggy, still thick with sleep.

"What are you doing?!" she shrieked.

"I'm sorry, my lady. I tried my best not to wake you."

"Yes, because I prefer to be violated in my sleep!" Elphaba said, squeezing Glinda.

Glinda gasped, shaking her head furiously, her body tensing.

"No! No, my lady! I wanted to clean the sheets, your shift, before you woke," Glinda said.

"Just why would you need to clean my shift while I slept?" Elphaba asked and then she smelt it. It hadn't _all_ been a dream. Her face grew hot. She released Glinda. The blonde stood back.

"I'm sorry I scared you, my lady. Please believe me I would never do something vile to you while you slept."

 _Liar!_

Elphaba glowered at her, body still clenching. How could she be found like this by Glinda of all people?! The blonde's eyes were round with apology.

"I can clean up," Glinda said and snatched Nessa's extra blanket and held it out.

"Get out," Elphaba said.

Glinda jumped.

"But, if—"

"GET OUT!" Elphaba shouted. Glinda dropped the blanket and hurried from the room.

Elphaba sighed. Glinda wasn't molesting her. She was trying to help. Elphaba couldn't accept it. She didn't want it. She didn't want Glinda's kind looks, her tender touches, her gentle attention. Elphaba didn't want it. She didn't want to like Glinda at all.

She stood up. She was weak, but her fever had broke. She removed her clothes, cleaned herself with the oils along her window, wrapped herself in the blanket, then peeled off the bed sheets and folded them. She changed in Nessa's room and made her way downstairs with an armful of dirty linens.

"Elphaba, you're on your feet!" Nessa exclaimed, her eyes falling to the pile in her hands. "You can have the slut take care of those."

Glinda, at the fireplace, peeling potatoes, had been looking at her, that damn concern still stuck in her eyes.

"I can clean them myself," Elphaba said.

"With what? You aren't going to use your oils, are you?" Nessa asked.

Elphaba shrugged.

"Elphaba! Once they're gone, how will you bathe?"

"Perhaps I'll give up bathing all together," she said and walked out.

Elphaba entered the barn and tossed the sheet over one of the pen doors. Wetting a cloth with her oils, she began scrubbing at the stains, until she heard footsteps and a man's cough.

 _Shell_!

She dropped her cloth, flooded with relief. She ran, flinging open the door, to be greeted by a crossbow.

"Elphaba!" the man said, lowering his weapon.

"Avaric..." Elphaba uttered. Shell hadn't come back. Her brother was still out there. Still alone.

"Come now. Surely I'm not that poor a vision," Avaric said, trying to shake a smile from her.

Could Avaric have had a hand in this? The witch had mentioned him by name. _Surely you can guess who I am. You've read plenty at Avaric's cabin._

"Elphaba?"

"What black magic have you gotten me into!" Elphaba said.

"It's nice to see you too."

"Are you working with her?"

"With who, you pine nut?!"

Elphaba took a step closer, her nose almost brushing his chin as she shouted,

"Yackle! The Fairy Godmother of the Lowly!"

"Dear Oz! I should have never let you wander off by yourself. Did you eat the red mushrooms? I should have told you they have horrible—"

"Don't patronize me!" she said, bristling.

"My lady?" a voice called.

They turned toward the cabin. Glinda stood a few feet away, eyeing them suspiciously.

"Are you all right, my lady?" Glinda asked, hands on her hips, as if she could do something if Elphaba wasn't.

"Go back inside, Glinda."

"Lady Nessa's sent me to announce Pfannee and Boq."

Elphaba exhaled.

"Tell my sister I'll be in shortly."

"Would my lady like a chaperone?" Glinda asked, glancing at Avaric's weapon.

"No."

Glinda didn't budge.

"Get inside that house!" Elphaba howled.

"As you wish, my lady," Glinda said, retreating, but not without eyeing Avaric over her shoulder. Once she had disappeared into the cabin, Avaric said,

"Aren't you mysterious? You never told me you kept company with a Gillikinese woman, _my lady._ "

Elphaba snorted.

"Who is she?"

Elphaba couldn't tell him. While they shared an antipathy for Gillikinese wars, they were sure to feel differently about stealing Gillikinese princesses. Elphaba would keep her lies simple. She told him what she said to Boq and Pfannee: Glinda was a peasant thief who had been caught.

"But, she isn't a peasant," Avaric said.

"How would you know?"

"Any Gillikinese man can see she's a woman of class. One has only to notice her gait, hear her vowels, view her teeth, her breasts."

"Her breasts?"

"Yes. Have you never seen a Gillikinese peasant? A woman her age would be married and a mother several times over. Her sacks would be swinging by her knees."

"Seen many peasant _sacks,_ have you?" Elphaba asked, raising an eyebrow.

Avaric recoiled and said,

"Not the married ones. The only man who could give those a good toss would be a dutiful peasant husband. Which I am not."

"Not a dutiful husband? Or, not a peasant?" Elphaba asked.

"Neither! I'm the bachelor son of the Margreave of Tenmeadows. Have Munchkinlanders no eye for good breeding? Can't you discern by my noble chin," Avaric said pointing to his jaw "Or by this beautiful brow, my high station?"

"Forgive me. Your shack in the woods was misleading."

"It's a _cabin_."

"I don't have time for games in semantics. I need to know how to find that fairy godmother."

"As I've told you, Yackle is a character in a story, a personification of our—"

"I've witnessed this personification in the flesh, well, a flesh of some sort. I assure you, she's no fable."

"What do you mean?" Avaric asked.

Elphaba grabbed him, pulling him close, and whispered how she met the old woman. She told him everything. Everything except for Galinda, of course.

"Impossible!"

Elphaba exhaled.

"So you don't know anything about her," she concluded.

Avaric shook his head, rubbing his chin.

"Who is this, my dear sister?" Nessa's voice called out.

Elphaba turned to see Nessarose standing in front of their cabin with Boq, Glinda, and Pfannee, the Weaver's hand on her sword, all eyes on Avaric.

"How many women are in that cabin?" Avaric whispered to Elphaba. The Munchkinlander ignored him.

"He's a friend," Elphaba said.

"He's a Gillikinese soldier," Nessa said.

"Not anymore," Avaric said smiling. No one smiled back.

Elphaba quickly explained how Avaric took her in during a snow storm. Nessa seemed dubious.

Elphaba knew how it must look, leaning on a Gillikinese man, breathing in his ear, her hand wrapped around his elbow.

"A Gillikinese soldier who no longer fights for Gillikin. Can there be such a man?" Pfannee asked.

"The longer one fights imaginary monsters, the easier it is to become a real one," Avaric said. Pfannee's eyes widened.

"If it is true that you mean us no harm and that you are a friend of my sister, you must come inside for a glass of water and a lunch of potatoes, and tell us more about how you met Elphaba," Nessa said.

Before Elphaba could object, Avaric accepted, leaning into a skip, when Elphaba pulled him back and hissed,

"Don't mention the lake! Nor anything about Glinda's breeding!"

"Yes, of course, whatever you say," Avaric mumbled, rushing toward Nessarose and Pfannee.

Elphaba didn't eat with them, but she also didn't stare out of her window. She stood with her back to it, watching the four of them. Avaric endeared the table to him with jokes and stories of misadventures. True to his word, he never mentioned how Elphaba had almost drowned, nor did he mention his observations about the Princess. Glinda stood by the table and waited on the four of them. Boq had pulled out a chair for Glinda only for Nessa to assure them that Glinda wouldn't be comfortable sitting beside her betters. Glinda's eyes rarely veered from Avaric. How grateful she must be to see another Gillikinese. Perhaps she even found him handsome. Looking at the two of them, Elphaba noticed it. They matched. Like Galinda and Sir Chuffrey. Elphaba cringed at the thought of the devil. Avaric was nothing like Sir Chuffrey. Glinda glanced her way. Elphaba continued looking. Glinda bowed her head, her eyes full of that coy kindness. And, this Glinda was nothing like Galinda.

"So how about it, Elphaba?" Boq asked, the four of them looking at her.

What had they been saying? How long had she been staring like an idiot at Glinda?

"Won't you come to our dance tomorrow evening? Nessa says you must sing for us. And, Avaric, you must come too!" Boq said.

"Of course I'll come. With cooked rabbit and mead!" Avaric said.

"Perfect!" Boq said, and then straightening his shoulders, asked. "And, Miss Glinda will you come?"

The blonde looked to Nessarose. Her sister sat with pursed lips, shoulders rolled back. Nessa peeked at Boq and said, "If she finishes her chores, she may come."

Glinda's eyes widened, looking as if she might float off the floor in delight.

"Thank you, my lady! Oh, thank you! I promise I shall finish. I promise!" she said.

Nessarose shrugged and Boq exclaimed,

"Very well! Now, Elphaba, what say you? Won't you join us?"

Before she could answer, Avaric spoke up,

"Why, of course she will!"

" _Not_ ," Elphaba added.

"Not?" Boq asked.

"I will _not_ come. I don't care for dances. I am sure my sister told you this before," she said, crossing her arms.

"Oh, Elphaba, stop trying to be the center of attention. Accept his invitation already!" Nessa said.

Glinda, standing behind Nessa, nodded, eyes pleading.

Elphaba sighed and started,

"I don't like dances. I—"

"Did I ever tell you how I found Elphaba in the forest?" Avaric interrupted and Elphaba flinched.

"How did you find my sister?" Nessa asked.

Elphaba shot Avaric a deadly glare.

"Shall I tell them, Elphaba? Or, shall we rather talk about what songs you might sing for us at the dance?"

The swine! What choice did she have?! She couldn't let Nessa find out what she'd done. She would only feel abandoned again.

"I make no promises at being any good," Elphaba said and the room hurrayed her surrender.

The visitors stayed for a few more hours laughing and talking, and despite her greatest efforts, Elphaba too found herself snickering once or twice.

On the day of the dance, Glinda got up early to make sure she finished her tasks on time. Elphaba stood by her window and Glinda finished peeling her last potato when Nessa came downstairs whistling. Coming toward the Princess, she looked at Glinda and said,

"Oh I see you haven't even started."

"Haven't started, my lady?"

"Why, yes, I believe the barn floor needs to be scrubbed again; the goats need to be washed; I would like some milk; the rooms need more wood; the cabinets need to be cleaned and dusted; the walls..."

Nessa droned on, listing an impossible number of new chores to be finished by tonight. Glinda's eyes grew anxious, but when Nessa finally finished speaking, without a breath of hesitation, she said,

"I shall get it all done, my lady."

Elphaba understood: Nessa never did plan for Glinda to come. She hadn't been won over by the camaraderie of the room. She just hadn't wanted to look small in front of Boq. Glinda had saved her legs and yet Nessarose couldn't show even the smallest kindness to Glinda. All morning and all afternoon Glinda scrubbed, scoured, chopped, hauled, and cleaned. Elphaba couldn't look away. It wasn't Glinda's beauty, which no amount of sweat and dirt could lessen, that stole her gaze, but rather it was Glinda's determination, there was a strength, a prepossessing humility to it. She worked tirelessly throughout the day, without complaint, without showing even a pinch of resentment. Elphaba kept waiting for Galinda's temper to flare in Glinda, but not even a shadow of Galinda appeared.

As night drew near, Elphaba took out her dark purple dress and a pair of black winter dress boots. In Nessa's room, she removed her braids and used Nessa's brush to comb out her locks. She walked downstairs, feeling the dress cling to her hips and shoulders, feeling the cool air brush along her bare collar bone. Her sister sat at the table. Glinda was setting the last log in a pile by the kitchen fire. The blonde turned and seeing Elphaba stumbled backward making Elphaba jump. Glinda blushed hard, her hands behind her back as she said,

"The dress suits my lady."

A quickening ran through Elphaba's gut. No one had ever responded to her like that. No one had ever found her so arresting.

Nessa coughed and Elphaba came back to herself and cleared her throat and said,

"I suppose it is time."

Glinda grinned and said,

"I've finished my last chore, my lady!"

"Yes, it really it is too bad," Nessa said, rising from the table, dressed in a maroon evening dress.

"Too bad?" Glinda asked.

"Too bad that you won't be coming with us. You did try hard," Nessa said.

"But, why?" Glinda asked.

"You certainly can't go smelling like that," Nessa said.

Glinda faced turned bright red.

"I can wash. I'll go right now!" she offered.

"I don't think so," Nessa said.

"But, I did everything my lady asked," Glinda said.

"Am I to blame for your sluggish pace and now your putrid smell?" Nessa asked, pinching her nose.

"Please! I promise I won't be but a minute," Glinda begged. "I promise!"

"You're too late," Nessa said, adding, "It's as if something's rotted under that dress of yours. You're a disgusting dirty little monster aren't you?"

Elphaba's breath stopped. Glinda's blush had flown to her ears.

"Aren't you?" Nessa pushed.

Glinda's lips tightened.

"Say it! Say you're a dirty little monster!" Nessa commanded.

The phrase pinned Elphaba to her spot. Glinda's eyes grew wet.

"Say it now! Or I shall spank you!"

Glinda whispered in a rush,

"I'm a dirty little monster."

"Dirty little monsters don't get to go to dances, do they?" Nessa asked.

Glinda bit her lip.

"Say it! Say: Dirty little monsters like me don't go to dances."

Glinda's lip trembled.

"Say it or I shall bend you over this table and let Elphaba see how you enjoy it. How you wet yourself for it."

The blonde shook her head.

"Then, say it," Nessa hissed, coming closer and grabbing a fireplace dustpan full of ash.

Glinda swallowed, her gaze falling to her feet.

"Dirty little monsters like me don't go to dances," she said.

Nessa smiled and flung the ash at Glinda, blanketing her in a cloud of white, streaks in her hair, across her face, on her dress. Glinda froze. Her silence only aggravated Nessa who grabbed the top of Glinda's dress and shook her. Elphaba felt a surge of anger at her sister. She lunged and grabbed Nessa's hand, buttons flying.

"Saving our little whore again?" Nessa asked.

Elphaba pried Nessarose off, ushered her toward the door, and opened it.

"Have a good time," Elphaba said and pushed her sister out.

"Oh, come now, I was just having a little fun with her, Elphaba. Don't get so upset."

"Yes. Your fun is spread all over the kitchen floor."

"She can clean it," Nessa said.

"Go on ahead," Elphaba said, trying to push down her anger. Nessa wasn't Galinda. She was her sister. Glinda was Galinda. Wasn't she?

"Don't tell me you're not coming—"

"I shall be there shortly, unless you continue to pester me!"

Nessa sighed, picking up her dress, and said, "Fine, but don't be later than an hour. They're expecting you. Remember three trees down, pull the cord."

Elphaba nodded and watched Nessa walk off into the night. She shut the door and turned around. Glinda stood shaking, covered in soot, a tear clearing a path down her cheek. Her breasts, pale and tear-shaped, lay exposed under her rope collar.

"Go to your room."

Raising her gaze, Glinda said,

"My la—"

"Now!" Elphaba said sternly and Glinda covered her face with her hands and rushed up the stairs.

Elphaba exhaled, her hand running through her hair. Was she really going to do this? Was she really going to feel sorry for Glinda? She picked up the fallen buttons and the clean pail of water Glinda had brought in from outside and started up the stairs. Elphaba could say it was because she didn't trust Glinda to be alone. But that wasn't it. That wasn't it at all. Elphaba went into her sister's room, grabbing a needle and thread, and a towel, wetting it with oil from one of her last three bottles stored in their trunk. She walked over to her room. The door was closed. Through it, she could hear Glinda's muffled sobs. Elphaba opened it. Glinda, on the floor, looked up, her eyes red. Throwing the towel with the needle and thread over one arm, and setting the pail down, Elphaba commanded,

"Come here."

Glinda rose slowly, squeezing her dress closed, as she walked toward her.

"Let go," Elphaba said, motioning with her chin to Glinda's hand at her chest.

Staring at Elphaba, slowly, nervously Glinda released her grip. Elphaba clasped the sides of Glinda's dress. The blonde looked away to the far corner of the room. If only Elphaba hadn't glanced down. She wouldn't have seen such soft nubby flesh. Glinda's clove pink nipples were hardening. Did this excite her? Did Elphaba's touch arouse her? Elphaba slid her thumb to the base of a pink tip. Glinda's breath quickened, her nipples puckering tighter. What kind of sound would Glinda make if Elphaba pinched them. Ran her tongue over them. Suckled them. She could do it. She could do to Glinda what Galinda had done to her. She could force her to ask for it, to beg for it. Her thumb brushed against pink hardness. Glinda inhaled sharply and closed her eyes.

Elphaba dropped Glinda's garment like a hot coal and spun away from her. Her cheeks burned. This wasn't her. She didn't do those things. She didn't become excited at the thought of punishing Galinda, especially punishing her like that. But it wasn't Galinda, standing there, was it? And, Elphaba didn't want to punish her. Lately, watching Glinda made Elphaba feel something warm...something shameful...something sickeningly sticky. What was wrong with her?

"Take off your dress," Elphaba said. There was a pause. A long one. But then Elphaba heard the dress fall to the floor. She turned around but didn't look. Of course she didn't. She wasn't curious. She wasn't the least bit interested in Glinda's body. She already knew what it looked like. Closing her eyes, she felt along the floor until she found her dress. Clutching it, she rose, turned and laid the oiled towel on the bed, and went to the fireplace.

"That towel and pail of water will remove the dust," she said.

As she stitched, she heard Glinda wash herself. Once Elphaba had finished sewing, and patted off the ash, she turned around, holding the dress in front of her.

"Here," Elphaba said, extending her arms, looking away. She felt Glinda pull the garment from her hands.

"Thank you, my lady," Glinda said after a moment.

Elphaba opened her eyes to see Glinda clothed and buttoned, except for the tops ones that always went undone. Elphaba walked over and placed her hands at the base of Glinda's neck. Glinda's eyes were anxious, but her body was obediently still. Elphaba's hands slid back toward the knot of the goat collar. She untied it and tossed the collar on the bed. She didn't know if this was wise. But she had come this far, so she said,

"I don't think that collar is suitable for a dance, do you?"

"But, Lady Nessa said I couldn't—"

"I see no reason for you not to go, now that you've washed. Unless you've decided you no longer want to go?" Elphaba asked.

"Oh, Lady Elphaba! I want nothing more in all the world!" Glinda exclaimed, grinning, staring at her full of something that made Elphaba's stomach twist.

Elphaba cleared her throat and said,

"We ought to hurry."

They left the cabin and ran into the night, toward the third tree past the pond. By the light of the moon, Elphaba found the dangling rope and pulled. She didn't know what to expect, but nothing could have prepared her for the bottom bark of the tree to open like a door. The women shrieked. Inside the tree was a bearded Munchkin holding an oil lamp.

"Going up?" he asked.

"Up?" Elphaba asked.

"To the dance, it's in the ballroom."

Elphaba had no idea how trees could have ballrooms, but decided to board with Glinda. They leaned down and walked in. The tree while wide was still narrow enough that the women's shoulders were pressed tight together. Elphaba looked up to see the tree was hollowed. The man pulled a cord and the floor beneath them rose. Glinda clutched Elphaba's arm, her warm fingers sinking into her skin, her face tucking behind Elphaba's shoulder. They lifted to what seemed past the heavens when their ride finally stopped.

"If I may," the Munchkin said and reached between the two women and opened a door in the bark behind them. The lift was flooded with light. Before them was a spacious tree house ballroom, full of Munchkins who were laughing and dancing. Old familiar smells greeted Elphaba: nutmeg milk, coriander, vegetable rice. The middle of the room was cleared for dancing. Toward the outside were long tables where Munchkins sat eating, drinking, and laughing loudly. On top of the tables were plates of goat, bowls of fruits, and pitchers of mead.

"They've come!" Boq squealed from the right corner of the room and ran toward them.

Elphaba looked to see Glinda memorized by the scene, her breath still, her eyes flying from one table to the next. Boq pointed them to his spot at the table where Avaric, Pfannee, and an annoyed Nessarose sat. Nessa's eyes were on Glinda. Elphaba made her way over, the two following behind.

"This meat," Avaric said stuffing his mouth with a bite of goat and rice, "is much better than those rabbits."

"Didn't Glinda decide to stay home and clean?" Nessa said, glaring.

Elphaba felt the blonde stiffen beside her.

"She had a change of heart," Elphaba answered.

"We're so glad you could come!" Boq said. The table scooted down so the three could sit together. Using bone ladles, Elphaba scooped helpings of rice and root vegetables onto her plate. With no personal cutlery, she scooped the morsels into her mouth with her hand, refusing to look up and have the tastes ruined by Nessa's mood. The flavors loosened on her tongue. She closed her eyes. The room hummed with Munchkinland music, Munchkinland laughter, Munchkinland smells. She could almost imagine she was back at the royal table at Colwen Grounds. Her father to her left, her sister across from her, her brother beside her. She heard a hearty male laugh and turned half-expecting to see Shell's familiar smile, but instead caught a Munchkin man playfully throw an arm around Avaric's shoulder, the two guffawing over a toast.

Elphaba glanced down beside her to see Galinda staring at the food, but not daring to touch a piece.

"Eat," she said.

Glinda glanced up, hesitating, as if she hadn't heard her correctly.

"May I, my lady?"

Elphaba nodded. Nessa crossed her arms. Elphaba ignored her. She didn't have an answer. She didn't know what she was doing. She didn't know how at this moment she could be more disappointed with her sister, blood of her blood, bone of her bone, heart of her heart, over the vile Princess, unparalleled in cruelty, bottomless in depravity, who sat next to her as innocent as a lamb. All she knew was tonight Glinda didn't deserve what Nessa had done. And tonight that would be enough. Before she sorted any of her feelings, she would need many many jugs of nutmeg milk.

"A jig!" a man shouted down the table, raising his glass of mead.

"The circle jig!" another man shouted.

The table began to clap. Clap-Clap-Clap-Clap-Clap-Clap. Who would they select to dance? Pfannee stood.

"Weavers, let us show our guests our hospitality, and give them the highest honor: the first dance. Nessarose, please lead our first jig!" she shouted.

The tables whistled and clapped. Nessarose looked at Elphaba for help, but before Elphaba could do anything, several Munchkins had already circled round her, hoisting her up. Her red slippered feet twisted in the air while they carried her to the center of the ballroom. They set her down and then locked arms and began to walk in a circle around her. Women and men standing on the side played percusive instruments. All the tables had stood to watch. Her sister's eyes were like a doe's that has just seen its hunter in the bush. How could Elphaba intervene without shaming Nesssa? Before she could think of something, Nessa moved. Her legs jutted out; her arms curled. Her body jerked as if she were being attacked by insects. She looked pitiful, painful, dreadfully inadequate, incredibly ugly. Elphaba wanted to turn away, to run away, before she heard it. A chuckle. Then another. The laughter grew like wildfire, filling the ballroom. Nessa's eyes grew. She gazed out at the crowd and danced harder. Gritting her teeth. Determined. Elphaba's hands rose to her heart. Boos and hisses started. They were jeering. Pointing at her and laughing. Elphaba remembered how her distant cousins had snickered at Nessa when they met, pointing at her chair. She could hear their laughter now as she watched Nessa twist harder, her limbs flailing.

"Oh, my dear Nessa," Elphaba whispered. Then from the corner of her eye, she saw Glinda hopping over the arms of circling Munchkins. But she had been standing right beside her. Elphaba looked down to see only Boq. When she looked up, Glinda had walked close to a huffing and humiliated Nessa. She began to mimick her. Nessa's looked incredulous, furious, then her shoulders fell. She had been defeated by the Princess of Gillikin. The crowd's laughter grew louder, assuming, like Nessa, Glinda was mocking her. But then little by little the laughter quieted.

Glinda had stylized Nessa's jerks, repeating them in sets, adding in a twirl, a graceful tilt. She turned Nessa's lurchers into a choreographed jig. Nessa surveyed the room. Munchkins peered in wonder. Glinda reached out for Nessa's hand. Her sister flinched, glaring at her. But, Glinda didn't lower her hand. She was inviting Nessa to dance with her, to start them off. Nessa clutched it and they both took a bow and then released their grip. Nessa began slowly, doing her movements to Glinda's rhythms. Glinda synchronized her body to Nessa's twerks, they twirled in equal measure, with a razor's precision, feather light strides, as if gliding on ice. Silence turned to steady rhythmic clapping. Their movements grew faster, matching the excitement of the crowd. Faster and faster. Until Glinda teetered, lost her balance, and fell to the ground, laughing. The crowd erupted in cheers. Nessa looked around in awe. Turning to Glinda on the ground, she extended her hand and pulled Glinda up. Glinda looked up at her mistress, her previous courage giving way to a nervous shyness. They bowed. The crowd whistled and cheered and parted to let them through. As the two skipped to the table, Nessa was beaming, an honest, heart-felt grin.

"You two were incredible!" Boq exclaimed.

"Marvelous!" Avaric cheered.

"The best jig we've seen in years!" Pfannee cheered. Her sister looked triumphant. Glinda looked at Elphaba, eyes full of deep tenderness. Glinda was searching for something, wanting something from her. Elphaba's heart zik-zikked in her chest. While Munchkins pulled her from the table, shouting for a song, she realized it with a rising dread. Glinda had saved Nessarose— _for her._

* * *

 **A/N:** January and February were filled with quite a few writing projects, but many thanks to all the lovely readers who left reviews supporting Her Lady's Maid and encouraging me to continue! For all of you, I promise to keep going!

Also, since reading some criticism that came in January, I have one request. For those of you who don't care for this story and want to let me know, I don't have a problem. However, please don't criticize readers who are enjoying this story. I treasure my monthly readers whose bright encouragement and feedback I could not do without. May they always feel free to read and enjoy what moves them.

As always, I would love to hear your impressions of this chapter! Wishing you all the best until the next update!


	12. Chapter 12

Elphaba's voice filled Glinda, pressing into her like a thumb into hot pie. Standing at the head of the ballroom, the Munchkinlander's gaze wafted over tables of seated Munchkins, returning always reluctantly, ever hesitantly—to her. Had Elphaba seen her this time? Seen her as someone other than a villain, a thief, an entitled Gillikinese? Might there be an end to her suffocating solitude?

When none of her company came the first week, nor the second, Glinda realized that whoever Galinda was, she had been unimportant, likely unremarkable, and most certainly unloved. But, she wasn't Galinda. Not anymore. She was _Glinda._ And, Glinda could become somebody else, somebody someone might miss.

But just who would Elphaba miss? Elphaba who waited for a Shell of a man, who lived with a sister, vicious as she was beautiful, who was cursed with green skin, plagued with an allergy to water, life itself, who suffered the loss of a kingdom and a people, whose most sacred possessions were stolen by a thief whom she had to take in, who should have been obliterated by life's sorrows, left as stone-hearted as her sister, who had the strength to stand by the window and face her losses each morning, a strength that must have taken a lifetime to summon. Glinda didn't have a lifetime to become admirable, to transform Elphaba's loathing for her into appreciation; she had weeks, filled with cooking, cleaning, and milking, lowly insignificant tasks. Yet with such insignificance she had fed Elphaba, waited on her, and nursed her back to health, all of which felt quite significant. It had even softened her mistress, but Glinda longed for more than a softening. She needed someone to talk to, to care for, to confide in. She needed a friend.

Elphaba finished and Munchkins leapt to their feet, applauding, raising their glasses. Glinda stood clapping. Elphaba bowed to the room and walked toward her. Weavers and other Munchkin migrants continued with cheers while mandolins, banjos, and drums played. They took their seats. Leaning in, Glinda whispered,

"My lady's voice is breathtaking."

Elphaba ignored her. She sipped her milk, collected a serving of vegetable rice, and smiled to Munchkins down the table. Her silence stung Glinda like a slap.

"Well done!" a man's voice said behind them.

Glinda turned to see Avaric standing dressed in his red uniform. The Gillikinese noble had disappointed her. She studied him at the cabin, fastidiously, but he conjured nothing familiar. Not like Elphaba did. Not like her smell. Or the way she clutched her dress. Or raised her eyebrow. Or breathed her vowels. Or swam her 'l's . Avaric in all that vermilion didn't feel like a cousin or brother but a lanky crustacean.

"Thank you," Elphaba said smiling.

"Shall we dance?" he asked.

"That wasn't part of the bargain," she said.

"Would you mind if I borrowed her?" Avaric asked, pointing to Glinda.

Elphaba's lips pursed.

"Come now, just a dance," he pleaded, raising his hands in innocence.

Elphaba glanced at Glinda, her eyes asking: 'Would you want to?'

Wasn't it obvious what she wanted? She wanted Elphaba to converse with her like she did Nessa, Avaric, Munchkinlanders with whom she had never even met. Why must Elphaba persist in her frost? Surely Glinda's actions of late demonstrated contrition. In defeat, Glinda acquiesced.

"I would be honored, my lord."

Avaric grinned. Elphaba crossed her arms and said,

"One dance, but remember what I told you."

"Of course, of course," he said, stretching out his hand.

Glinda placed her hand in his larger, much coarser one. He whipped her from the table and raced her toward the center of the floor. Stopping, he bowed low and said,

"Thank you for this honor."

As if on instinct, her body fell into a curtsy.

"Shall we show these Munchkinlanders a Gillikinese close-stop?" he asked.

A close-stop: a dance that originated from Gillikinese folk dances, but had its equivalence in dances done by nobility. How did she know that? She had no time to wonder. Avaric raised his left arm, her cue to walk forward and be taken by his right. Entering his embrace, he wrapped his right arm in a loose, yet firm hold right below her shoulder blades. Glinda's body knew the pose—chin high, shoulders back, chest forward. She _remembered_.

Avaric's shoulder arched back, his chest a firm wall. He cut forward, he cut deep. Glinda's matched him with an equally deep step backward. Step back, step back, step back, slide, close-stop. Repeat. Avaric was skilled. He cut across the floor like a knife carving cream. Glinda didn't understand how, but she kept up. She felt his weight and followed. They sped up, her dress fluttering in front of her. Avaric spun her. She ended it, as she knew to do, between his feet. Step back. Step back. Step back. Her heart was thumping. How wonderful it was to know something, to do something right, to feel self-possessed. They continued, with swivels, turns, and dips. Despite the beads of sweat that collected on her neck, despite how her foot throbbed, Glinda felt effervescent with light. Finally Avaric dipped her low, very low. She raised her leg. He grabbed it and marched her across the floor, then dropped her leg and pulled her upright into a close-stop. Holding her tight, he said with a smile,

"It has been a true pleasure, Miss Glinda. Like dancing with a cloud."

Glinda warmed uncomfortably at the nearness of his body, which in motion seemed necessary, but now seemed inappropriately intimate. Her excitement further waning when she considered Elphaba had most likely missed their dance altogether, her attention devoted to nuts and vegetables. The room broke out in hoots and applause. Avaric released her. Glinda spun around. They were the only two on the dance floor. Every Munchkin was on their feet watching. Even Elphaba. She didn't clap, but her gaze was riveted to her. Glinda grinned. The couple bowed to the crowd three times as was customary for Gillikinese dances.

"Shall I return you to your mistress?" Avaric whispered. Glinda nodded.

Elphaba was her mistress, but who was she to Avaric? A friend? A more-than-friend? _Did I ever tell you how I found Elphaba in the forest?_ He didn't answer, but the threat alone was enough to persuade her. What did he know about her? Avaric and Elphaba while not countrymen, were of the same cloth: fine silks, spun wools, and dyed cottons. A courtship between them before the war wouldn't have been strange, but now even a friendship seemed unexpected.

As they arrived at their banquet table, a long split tree trunk, Munchkins raised their glasses, whistled, and cheered. Glinda smiled, bowing her head. Elphaba sipped her nutmeg milk, committing to her silence.

"What did you think, Miss Elphaba?" Avaric asked, leaning across the table.

She gave a half-nod, forcing a nearby Boq to burst,

"You dazzled us!"

"Yes, you both looked radiant, even if the dance was a touch indecent," Nessa said.

Ha! Even the butcher could say something nice in her own way. Why couldn't Elphaba? Glinda sighed. As if reading her mind, Avaric asked,

"Has the cat caught your tongue Miss Elphaba? Or, are you just too shy to share your feelings?"

Nessa snickered and Elphaba threw Avaric a glare so fierce Glinda jumped.

"If you only talked as well as you danced," she hissed.

"Ah, so you did enjoy our little show! Was it _me_ you were studying so intently?" Avaric teased. Elphaba grit her teeth. Glinda's annoyance turned into confusion then discomfort.

"It's a pity because I'm too tired for another dance," he continued.

"I didn't ask you for one, you—"

"But, I'm certain nothing would delight us more," Avaric interrupted, rallying the table, "than a dance led by our best singer, that's you _Lady_ Elphaba, and our best dancer, Glinda."

"Avaric!" Elphaba called, her shout barely audible against a tableful of cheers.

Dance with Elphaba? Hand in hand? Bodies pressed together? With Elphaba in that dress? Elphaba had carried her in and out of the cabin countless times, but it was so perfunctory, so unfeeling, and so very very clothed. Dancing required an openness, a responsiveness, a pliantness, and Elphaba was about as pliant as a pistachio, like a snapping turtle who would peer out, only to pop back in, recoiling even further into her darkness.

"My lady doesn't have to—" Glinda said, but what she really meant was: Couldn't humiliations be saved for the cabin? But, they were grabbed from the table, dragged to the floor, and left facing each other. Elphaba's brown eyes looked down her like a corridor.

"My lady," Glinda said.

"Don't — touch — me," Elphaba whispered.

"Please. My—"

"Get off me!" Elphaba said.

But Glinda wasn't _on_ her. She was several feet away. The Munchkinlander looked to be in the middle of a phantom terror. She looked the way she had when Glinda had tried to undress her, pale green, as if she had seen a ghost. Glinda's stomach soured. Was Elphaba remembering something? Someone? Had someone abused her? Tortured her? Glinda walked closer.

"My lady, it's only me— _Glinda_."

Elphaba trembled.

"Elphaba," Glinda breathed, dropping her title.

"Dance, dance, dance, dance, dance!" the crowd shouted.

Elphaba's knees wobbled. If she collapsed on the dance floor in front of a sea of Munchkin migrants, the disgrace would be insurmountable.

" _Elphie_!" Glinda hissed.

Elphaba blinked, her eyes focusing.

"What did you call me?"

What _had_ she called the former ruler of Munchkinland?! Glinda hadn't meant to nickname her. It came out in desperation, in a panic. She bowed low.

"My deepest apologies, I didn't—"

"Let's get this over with," Elphaba said, moving forward only to falter. "I can't— I don't know any Gillikinese dances."

Glinda smiled and said,

"Shall we do a Munchkin Waltz?"

Elphaba raised an eyebrow.

"Do you know it?"

"I think so." A Munchkin Waltz: the quickest, most elegant waltz, one of the hardest to master.

Elphaba studied her, with a touch of suspicion, or was it fear? Glinda smiled, trying to exude sincerity. Elphaba exhaled and raised her arms high. Glinda came close. Elphaba placed one warm hand beneath Glinda's shoulder blade, pulling her in until their pelvises touched, and clasped her hand with the other.

What was this heat in Glinda's chest? This downpour of caterpillars in her stomach? She stared at the ceiling and Elphaba moved. Her body erect like a javelin, spinning them gracefully, dissolving the space between them, cocooning them in her scent. Spin, Spin, Spin. Slow. Twirl. The dance was much more restrained than the Gillikinese close-stop, yet Glinda felt overwhelmed in sense, flooded in heat, a torrent of bubbles. Thank Oz Elphaba couldn't see her face. The pose required them to gaze away. How silly and red she must look. Elphaba pulled Glinda onto her side, leaning her off her feet. She spun Glinda on her bony hip. The room cheered. Returning Glinda to a stand, Elphaba twirled them. Whirling and whirling until Glinda stuttered. Her foot! It felt like it was splitting in two. She grimaced, biting her lip. She didn't want it to end. She didn't want to leave Elphaba's embrace. But Elphaba slowed anyway, coming to a full stop. She released her and bowed very low, her back parallel to the floor. Glinda slid into a deep curtsy. Rising, she noticed Elphaba's face. It was feverish, her eyes dilated, her breath shallow. Munchkins where on their chairs hooting and cheering. The women walked toward each other. Glinda extended her hand and Elphaba took it. The intensity of Elphaba's gaze stilled her. Her mistress turned her toward the crowd, her other hand on her waist as they bowed. Walking to their seats, Elphaba whispered,

"Did I hurt you?"

"No, my lady."

"Your foot—"

"It's only a slight sting," Glinda groaned, trying to keep her gait natural as she limped.

"Well done!" Avaric sounded.

The table resounded in compliments.

"Thank you, but I'm afraid it's rather late. We must say goodnight. Thank you all for your hospitality," Elphaba said.

"But, I don't want to leave," Nessa whined.

"Oh, do stay a bit longer!" Boq pleaded.

"You haven't even tried our mead," Pfannee added.

"Nessarose may do what she likes, but Glinda and I are going home," Elphaba said.

"Where's your spirit, Elphaba!" Avaric asked.

"It's exhausted, especially of you," she said.

"But, Miss Glinda looks most awake," Boq whined.

"Most aroused, I'd say," Avaric said and Boq socked him in the shoulder.

 _Aroused?!_ Glinda's hands came to her cheeks. Could everyone see it? How indecent! "I won't say it again," Elphaba said and tipped her head. Grabbing Glinda's hand, she pulled her toward the lift.

"Looks like the canker-blossom wants dear Glinda all to herself!" Pfannee said.

When they were back on the forest floor, blanketed by stars, Glinda hobbling in the cold air, her hand still in Elphaba's, the Munchkinlander turned and without a word pulled her up into her strong arms. The relief was immediate. Glinda looped her arms around Elphaba's neck and wiggled her foot. She could still move it. Relieved, she rested her head against Elphaba's shoulder. Her heart fluttered. How warm Elphaba's neck felt. Glinda nuzzled into her as Elphaba carried her home.

In their room, neither said a word. Elphaba set her by the wall and lit the fire. Glinda untied her laces and removed her boot. Her wound had reopened. The gash was caked in blood. When Elphaba turned and saw it, she fetched her oils and cloth from the window. She came and knelt beside her.

Glinda closed her eyes and held her breath. Elphaba took her foot. Don't cry. Don't shame yourself. Be brave. After a few sharp inhales, a rub here, and a pat there, Elphaba whispered,

"It's finished."

Glinda opened her eyes and fell into Elphaba's. She couldn't look away. Something had shifted. Elphaba was nervous. Suddenly Glinda remembered. That touch. Before the dance. Elphaba's thumb had slid over her breast. And, yet Elphaba drew back with such rapidity that Glinda knew the fondle to be an accident. But now Elphaba was leaning in. Coming closer. Staring at her lips. Licking her own. Glinda heart zib-zibbed. It was as if...as if... it couldn't be! Elphaba couldn't even smile. Couldn't even talk to her. She thought her an ugly, simple-headed scoundrel— an unforgivable burden. Had she gotten it wrong? Could it be Elphaba had other feelings for her? Feelings responsible for her sharp fluctuations in mood? The mere question threw Glinda overboard into a sea of bewilderment. Grasping for the familiar, she whispered,

"Thank you, my lady."

Elphaba paused. Without warning, she rose and retreated to her bed, coring Glinda like an apple.

Why couldn't she control her nerves? What a fool! Glinda lay down and faced the wall, crushing her teeth against her lip. Whatever Elphaba's feelings for her were or weren't, her own disappointment made it clear what she wanted, shamefully clear. The shadows from the fire flicked like wagging fingers: _if only—if only—if only you kept quiet_.

Flump.

A heavy woolen warmth fell on Glinda. She turned to see Elphaba climbing into bed, one blanket shy. The Munchkinlander scooted into the covers, without looking at her, without acknowledging her gift, without breathing a word, but Glinda grinned anyway, pulling her blanket up to her ears, content to think on those other feelings.

Falling asleep, Glinda saw her first nightmare. Elphaba was tied to a tall-backed reclining chair in the middle of their kitchen, naked, her back to her, her green legs raised and open, her toes pointing in the air. She murmured something, in a frightened garbled voice, calling for someone. Glinda wanted to run and untie her, but she was stuck to her spot, sinking into the floor. Something was in her hands. Elphaba's ripped clothing! Why did she have them? Why were they ripped? What had she done? She burst awake, covered in sweat, breathing hard, and crawled toward Elphaba's bed. On her knees she popped up and leaned over. Elphaba was still breathing, calm and steady. Watching the rise and fall of the Munchkinlander's chest, her heart settled. She folded her hands, bowed her head, and said,

"Dear Lurline, I commend Lady Elphaba to your never-ending care, believing thou art doing far more good for her than anyone can desire or imagine." Then crept back under her blanket, and fell fast asleep until morning.

When Glinda woke again she noticed Elphaba, awake and dressed, on top her bed reading her red book. The Munchkinlander glanced over and startled to see Glinda peering at her. Their gaze stuck as it had last night. Elphaba cleared her throat. Glinda shuffled to a stand. Pain stole her breath. Gasping, she leaned against the wall, raising her foot, her blanket falling off her shoulders. Elphaba scooted off the bed and picked her up. Her unexpected touch made Glinda's belly tighten. She squeezed her thighs together and gently wrapped her arms around Elphaba's neck, hiding her pained face against her chest.

The Munchkinlander walked them down the stairs and out into the crisp winter air. Her thumbs brushing the underside of Glinda's arm and thigh. Glinda shut her eyes, hugging Elphaba tighter. Don't think about her fingers. Don't think how good they feel. How they might slide under her garment and stroke a pinch of pinkness. Glinda's thoughts twisted into a sneeze.

"Hurry now before you catch a chill," Elphaba whispered in Glinda's ear, setting her down.

Glinda, shuddering with desire, was anything but chilled.

As her feet touched the ground, she barely had time to pull up her garment before she released. Finishing her business, she straightened her dress, and turned to see Elphaba staring. Glinda's chest tightened. Had the sight pleased her? Excited her? Last night Glinda had been too nervous for even a kiss. She hadn't even considered what else Elphaba might want from her.

After Elphaba carried her inside, the Munchkinlander abandoned her window, escaping upstairs, leaving Glinda to catch her breath alone. Glinda prepared breakfast, but her mind wasn't on her tasks but on the ardor in Elphaba's gaze. Elphaba hadn't completely forgiven her and yet it seemed parts of her pleased Elphaba. Parts of her she would willingly give over for Elphaba's kindness.

A little later, with a cup of milk in one hand, Glinda knocked on their door. Hearing a grunt, she walked in and found Elphaba on her bed, turning a page in her red book.

"I've brought you something to drink," she said.

Elphaba, deep in her shell, gestured with her eyes to the window sill, her gaze falling back to her book.

Glinda placed the cup by the window. Wanting to make up for her cowardice, she decided to be bold.

"Might my lady read aloud?"

Elphaba stiffened and said,

"Why would I do that?"

"So that I might hear what keeps my lady's attention."

Elphaba's gaze rose slowly, her eyes narrow.

"I advise you to keep _your_ attention on your chores and off of me!"

Glinda startled. Her fantasy unraveling. She crumpled her lip beneath her teeth, prepared to run from the room, but Nessarose came in. Glinda's stomach pitched. Had Lurline saw fit to add shame to humiliation? First to be rejected by Elphaba, then to be beaten in front of her by Nessathorn. The butcher's beatings became so regular while Elphaba was ill, Glinda marked her hours by them. She steadied herself for the first strike of morning, refusing to shrink, but Nessa's strike never came. Her normal baleful glare had softened into a glance of light condescension. Was she still feeling charitable from the dance?

"Good morning, my lady," Glinda breathed, bowing her head.

Nessarose nodded her reply and motioned with her eyes to the door. Glinda gladly scurried into the hallway, hearing Elphaba rise from the bed and Nessa say,

"Fabala you should have stayed last night; you missed all the desserts. Unless you came home for some dessert of your own?"

"Just what are you suggesting?" Elphaba asked.

"The whole table commented on how passionate you and Glinda looked on the dance floor."

"It was a table full of drunks and perverts," Elphaba said.

"More perverted than your penchant for Gillikinese peasants?" Nessa asked.

"Mention such foul things to me again and you will live alone in this cabin!"

 _Foul things?_ Glinda's shoulders fell. Were her feelings foul?

"To hear you deny it one could only believe the rumor true," Nessa said.

"Don't test me, Nessy!" Elphaba growled and Nessarose giggled.

Stop, Nessa, _please_! The more Nessa intimated, the more horrified Elphaba sounded, and the more shameful Glinda felt.

"It was a joke, Fabala. Who would ever believe a Thropp could desire a wretch like Glinda?" Nessa asked.

Glinda had. She had believed that something was happening to them. Elphaba's touch, their gentle embrace, their almost kiss, Elphaba's morning stare. Glinda's heart fell into her feet. Had what felt so purposeful, so intimate, so full of tenderness been only an accident, an embarrassment, a terrible mistake? Had her loneliness caused her to imagine fondness where there was only indifference? "Elphaba!" Nessa called.

"Leave me alone," Elphaba said and before Glinda could hobble down the stairs, Elphaba was in the hallway, flinching at the sight of her. Glinda looked away. Elphaba flew past.

"Elphaba, where are you going?" Nessa called from the bedroom doorway.

"The wishing tree!" Elphaba shouted from downstairs before she slammed the front door.

"Always so sensitive," Nessarose muttered, making her way downstairs.

Glinda served Nessarose breakfast, and this morning, like all mornings, she prayed for every bite to choke her. But this morning, unlike all mornings, Nessa wasn't to blame for her pain. It was her own perverse desires that shamed her, made her wish for something that horrified Elphaba. The afternoon came and went but Elphaba did not return. Nessa, still high on her good mood, told her after saving a plate for Elphaba, she could have a few potatoes herself, she was leaving for Boq's. Glinda thanked her but couldn't eat. _Mention such foul things to me again and you will live alone in this cabin!_ Elphaba wouldn't leave them, would she? Several candlemarks after Nessa left, a knock came.

Elphaba!

Glinda set down her broom and raced to the door to find Pfannee standing there covered in fresh snow.

"Just the face I came to see!" she said, walking inside without an invitation. Closing the door, Glinda held in a sigh. She knew she should be grateful for the weaver's pleasant demeanor toward her, but unlike Elphaba's elegance or even Nessa's primness, Pfannee, while possessing an uncommon beauty, was coarse. She didn't glide like Elphaba, but plowed, head first, stomping through cabin and tree. Her speech was no better. Whatever passed through her mind had only one path out her mouth. Pfannee's abandonment of all intelligible manner felt like an impromptu dance whose rhythm Glinda could never catch. Worst of all, the weaver reminded Glinda of how she must appear to Elphaba—illiterate and poorly dressed.

Glinda poured them cups of water and grabbed a plate and ladle, when the Munchkin said,

"Don't bother with those rotten things!"

Glinda grimaced. If she hadn't come for her food, what did Pfannee want? Setting down the utensils, Glinda took a sip of water.

Warming her hands by the fireplace, Pfannee asked,

"So tell me Glinda, do you ride your mistress often?"

Water flew through Glinda's nose in a cough. She grabbed a rag on the counter and wiped her face.

"Pardon?"

Pfannee grinned and said,

"Your dance. You seemed quite comfortable with that green touch. Is that the service she keeps you for? It's surely not your cooking."

 _That green touch? Her service?_ Glinda's cheeks crimsoned.

"You're mistaken! I cook and clean for Lady Elphaba. I don't— "

"Bare your bird's nest for her?"

Glinda cringed. _Foul. Wretched. Dirty. Little. Monster._ Is that what everyone saw? No. That's what she was. She _had_ wanted Elphaba to kiss her, to touch her, but not like this, not like how Pfannee described it, and definitely not anymore, not when she knew how it sickened Elphaba.

"I'm not—I haven't—Lady Elphaba would never—"

"Glinda, don't be bashful. We Weavers aren't prudes as Munchkin nobility pretend to be. It would please us if you had some experience. I would like to invite you to a wonderful night of thrills, much more thrilling than a dance with a cucumber."

"Don't call Lady Elphaba that!"

"How you defend her?" Pfannee said, coming close, reaching out and twisting a golden curl around a calloused finger. Glinda stiffened. "Have I misjudged you? Perhaps it isn't the canker-blossom who requires your services. Perhaps it is _you_ who wishes to serve! So much the better!" she announced, smiling.

Glinda's face grew so hot she thought she would faint. She couldn't cover up. She was exposed, unveiled, revealed to be the whore that she was. Her hands swept over her mouth.

"No need to be shy," Pfannee said, "I've been sent on the Weavers' behalf to invite you to our club, a club that welcomes your feelings and your skills."

"Skills?" she murmured, lowering her hands.

"It's clear you've been trained to dance. Where did you pick it up? A dance hall? A brothel?"

 _A brothel?!_ Is that how she know how to dance? Had she entertained men? Women? Is that why she felt those things for Elphaba? Had Nessa been right all along? Hot wetness rushed behind her eyes.

"It doesn't matter. Our club welcomes everyone. No matter your fancy, no matter your lineage. You can entertain or be entertained. The choice is yours."

The lump in Glinda's throat only grew.

"Come with me. Find some rest in the hands of another," Pfannee said, "No fear of impregnation at our club. Everyone can watch, but the women entertain the women and the men the men. Would you like a woman to unwind you, Glinda?"

Glinda face went pipping hot. The door opened. Elphaba walked in, shaking snow, fine as dust, off her mantle. Glinda spun around, pretending to stir the potatoes.

"Pfannee. Good afternoon. Have you come for my sister?" Elphaba asked, closing the door.

"No, canker-blossom. Your sister is already with us. She's been dining with Boq and other Munchkin merchants. It's Glinda I've come for."

"Glinda?"

"I've come to invite her to an association that some among us call: The Philosophy Club. Its a place to _relax_ ," Pfannee added.

"Relax?" Elphaba asked.

Glinda turned around, her eyes pleading. Pfannee, don't tell. Don't explain. Don't disclose the vile things you want me for!

"Why, sex, boil-brain!"

Glinda flinched and Elphaba winced.

"Glinda won't be going."

"Well if _you_ want to be the one to unwind Glinda, I suppose you could come too," Pfannee said, her nose twisting at the thought. Elphaba's jaw seized.

"No one will be unwinding Glinda," she declared.

"Why? Can't spare her for a few hours?"

 _Spare her?_ Could Elphaba, as her mistress, loan her out?

"Glinda is too busy to waste her time on sex!"

"Nessarose said she finished her chores three candlemarks after sundown," Pfannee said. "What chores does she do for you in the dark?"

"None! She'll be having her nightly reading lessons!"

Did Elphaba just say—did that mean— would she really—

"Pity. Our Philosophy Club, on my conscience, could teach Glinda skills that ought to please you far more than reading," Pfannee said, with a wink.

In a blink, Elphaba ushered Pfannee out the door.

"Always a pleasure," Elphaba said, without any, "but this discussion is over. Good night!" She shut the door, resting her nose against the wood. The Weaver huffed before leaving for the trees. Elphaba turned and took in Glinda.

"I'm terribly sorry," Glinda said.

"What now?" Elphaba asked, crossing her arms.

"I should have never danced—They thought my lady—Oh, it's all my fault."

Elphaba snorted. "Its their own salacious desires that's responsible for this nonsense."

But...it wasn't just _their_ desires. Glinda's eyes fell.

"Thank you."

It was said in a whisper. Glinda wasn't even sure it was said, until Elphaba said it again.

"Thank you for dancing with Nessarose last night."

Glinda was afraid to smile. For whenever she did, Elphaba didn't. Breathe.

"I'm glad it pleased my lady," she said, feeling a nauseating mix of relief, elation, and fatigue. She realized she had to push further if she was ever to have anything with Elphaba. She would have to do it right now, while Elphaba was still grateful. Or she would never muster the courage.

"Did my lady mean it?"

Elphaba lips knit. Apparently she was not in the mood to repeat her gratitude. Glinda straightened and clarified, in a voice that shook only a little,

"Will my lady really teach me how to read?"

Elphaba's lips puckered further. So it had only been an excuse.

"I see," Glinda said and turned toward the fire.

"Be honest."

Glinda turned back.

"About what my lady?"

"How did you know how to dance?"

Glinda's heart jick-jacked.

"I don't know."

"You still don't remember anything about your past?" Elphaba asked.

"No, my lady. I've tried, but it's all a white mist."

"But, then why did Pfannee ask you to come to the Philosophy Club? Did you mention something? Did you ask to go?"

Pfannee asked because she thought her a woman of easy virtue. But, she couldn't say this. Elphaba would throw her out. And then what. The snow was coming down in sheets, not even the nearest trees were visible in that impermeable white. How would she find shelter? Food? Defend herself from wolves and bandits? Not even the dress on her back was hers.

"No, my lady, I did not."

"There must have been a reason."

"She believed I might have worked at a dance hall. That I might have some skills to be of service," Glinda said.

"A dance hall would hardly be versed in the _skills_ Pfannee wanted you to perform tonight."

Glinda bit her lip and stared at hem of her sleeve, tracing the stitching.

"What aren't you telling me? If you are to stay here, Glinda, you must—"

Glinda's stomach dropped. Elphaba would toss her out either way. She felt dim and small, powerless to protect herself, unable to keep her insides from fraying into tiny nervous snippets.

"A brothel..."

"What?"

"Pfannee thought I learned how to dance at a brothel. That's why she wanted me for the Philosophy Club," Glinda said, folding her hands in front her, looking past Elphaba, resigning herself to meet her fate chin high.

Elphaba cackled. How could she laugh?

"Isn't my lady ashamed of me?"

Elphaba's eyes grew sharp.

"How could I not be? There's not a day that goes by that I don't wish I'd never met you, never laid my eyes on you."

Glinda's stomach rolled to full nausea.

"I'll leave tonight, my lady."

"And go where?" Elphaba asked.

"I don't know, I—I—" Glinda stuttered. She wanted to hide, burrow into the earth, slip away into the soil, and never wake up.

"May Galinda not waste a second more. May she leave now and never return," Elphaba said.

With her heart drumming in her ears, Glinda hurried toward Elphaba, toward the door she stood beside. But, Elphaba slid in front of it, blocking her exit.

"Except...Galinda's already left. Hasn't she?" she asked.

Glinda looked up. Elphaba's eyes were questioning. She didn't know what Elphaba wanted to hear, so she said what she knew. "I don't remember anything about Galinda, my lady. I cannot say how much I am her or how much I am me. I cannot right any of my trespasses. I do not know where to look for my company or even who they are, but I vow to my lady, that if she shall find it in her heart to give me a second chance, I shall never allow my lady to regret it."

Elphaba appraised her. For a long while. Until Glinda's gaze dropped to her feet. Until she was sure Elphaba would dismiss her. Until she fully envisioned how it would feel for the chill to swallow her limb by limb.

"Four letters a night," Elphaba said.

"Pardon?" Could it be? Would Elphaba really teach her? Could she stay?

Elphaba headed toward the staircase, and as she ascended she said,

"You should know, _Glinda_ , there are no dance halls or brothels that can teach one to dance as well as you did last night."

A couple candlemarks later, Elphaba came downstairs with a wooden tablet, a block of wax, and quill utensils. At the fireplace, she melted wax onto the tablet, set it on the table to harden, and took a seat, calling Glinda to sit beside her. She explained,

"Reading is like marking a dance between the breath and the mouth. A word's movements can be broken down into two types, stops and flows, called consonants and vowels." She had Glinda say her own name several times, slowly, finding when her mouth obstructed breath and when it released it. Each movement was a sound and each sound had a notation. Reading was memorizing these notations, recalling them with such speed that they turned into words, sentences, and whole stories.

Was there anyone as smart as Elphaba? So confident, so skillful, so seductive. Staring at Elphaba's mouth, Glinda shivered. The way Elphaba said her name, holding her G, pushing her L, sounding her I, humming her N, thudding her D, releasing her A. Elphaba melted her name into an incantation. Each movement of those lips, that tongue, that breath. Focus, Glinda! Not on her mouth. On the lesson!

The Munchkinlander took the wooden tablet of dried wax and quill and carved out the first four notations. Letters she said they were called. One vowel and three consonants. Each letter had a mature shape and a young shape, called: uppercase and lowercase.

"Trace them with your finger," Elphaba instructed.

Extending her first finger, Glinda started in the middle.

"No!" Elphaba said.

Glinda jumped and squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for Elphaba to declare their lesson finished, but Elphaba took her hand instead. Glinda opened her eyes, staring at the slender green fingers wrapped around her own.

"Like this. Start at the top." She slid Glinda's finger along the grooves.

"Now you alone," she said.

Glinda nodded.

"Yes, like that, Glinda. Just like that."

And, just like that their nightly lessons started. The top of their days passed in silence as they always had, with Elphaba by her window and Glinda finishing her chores, but as soon as Nessa left to visit Boq and the Weavers, and leave she often did, Elphaba would fetch her utensils and Glinda would meet her at the kitchen table. In a few weeks, Glinda learned the whole alphabet, practicing her letters all over the cabin, with her finger, her foot, her broom, her brush, and her rag.

Glinda's interests weren't the only ones that changed. Nessa seemed to have lost her taste for her more barbarous predilections. She even allowed Glinda to eat, daily, at the table. Not with them, of course, but after the sisters finished. And, Elphaba finally conversed with her, regularly. They spoke mostly about her lessons, the weather, or meals, never divulging any intimacies, nor touching on Elphaba's past, a subject Glinda knew would not be appreciated. Nonetheless, their simple conversations gave Glinda's dreary life substance. And, her lessons were the one time a day Elphaba didn't ration her kindness. Sometimes she even showered Glinda in compliments. _Well done, Glinda. That's right. Yes, how very clever of you._ To receive Elphaba's praise was to feel those wonderful creeping caterpillars in her stomach, those prickles along her neck, that tickle in both her...

She had developed a cadence with Elphaba, but its habit satisfied less and less. With each passing day Glinda's affection for Elphaba's grew, unbearably so. She wanted to confess it, shout it, indulge it, but Elphaba wouldn't have it. Whatever the two had gained in words, they lost in flesh. Elphaba made certain they didn't touch, scooting away if Glinda slid too close, shying away if Glinda looked too long. It was painfully clear that Elphaba didn't share her feelings. So Glinda did her best to bury hers. Better to talk to Elphaba as a friend than not talk to her at all.

Lurlinemas came and went, with Boq, Pfannee, and Avaric visiting them, bringing all sort of festive dishes and drinks. Boq had stared at her the whole night, asking her question after question, her favorite Munchkin dish, her favorite season, her favorite instrument, on and on until he finally asked her for a dance, which Glinda gave him only so she could escape his conversation. The night ended with a short lapse in Nessa's disposition. When the guests left and Glinda started to clear the table, the butcher slapped her so hard her nose bled, a punishment for her impropriety she was told. Nessa was about to slap her again, when Elphaba caught Nessa's arm and pulled her up the stairs, into Nessa's room, from which, even while the door was closed, the sound of yelling could be heard.

After the winter holidays, came weeks of words. On an early spring afternoon, Elphaba asked Glinda to spell her own name. Glinda had yet to see her reflection, but the word carved in wax felt revelatory. A round, noble beginning, followed by hard rigid lines, a bend, a turning around, and an end on something small and soft. Was that her? Had the jagged trails of her past led to a revision, to be followed by a happy humble end? Would she be allowed a little rest, a little lightness, a little happiness all her own? Starring at herself while Elphaba fixed the logs, she couldn't help but wonder how Elphaba looked. _Aelphaba_ , she carved. They shared two letters. One of them her promising ending. A propitious sign indeed.

"Let's see," Elphaba announced behind her. Before Glinda could hide the tablet, noticing too late she had forgotten to include Elphaba's title, Elphaba pulled the tablet from underneath her.

"Is this my name?"

"I wanted to see...to see what you looked like."

Elphaba smirked. Taking her seat beside her, she crossed out the first A.

 _"_ This is how I look."

They seemed even more symmetrical. Glinda beamed.

"What is it?"

"We look well together."

"We?"

"Five beats, one shared vowel, one consonant, and one matching ending. There's a rhythm to us."

Elphaba snickered.

"I suppose," she conceded.

"Lady Elphaba, how—"

" _Elphaba_."

"Pardon?"

"I am no longer an eminent and far from a lady's station in Gillikin," she said, motioning to the cabin with her hand, "The more I hear 'Lady Elphaba'-this and 'My lady' -that, the more a jest it feels. You may call me Elphaba."

"But, I couldn't. I—"

"You had no problem the night of the dance," Elphaba said, raising an interrogating eyebrow.

Glinda reddened, remembering the nickname she blurted all those weeks ago, her hands flying to her cheeks.

"My apologies!"

"Are unneeded. As I said, _Elphaba,_ will do," Elphaba said.

"But, Lady Nessa would be—"

" _Lady Nessa_ can choose her own designation, not mine _._ "

"Elphaba..." Glinda whispered, testing out her new freedom. It was like sharing a secret. In her excitement, she blurted, "How did you come by your name?"

Elphaba stiffened.

Glinda had ruined it. Their pleasant moment. She had shown herself unworthy of this new privilege. For the proof of her trustworthiness with Elphaba lay in keeping her distance, scooting around unsaid boundaries that in her rush of excitement she carelessly violated. Glinda ground her lip with her teeth, welcoming the pain. Until finally.

"My mother gave it to me," Elphaba said. "I don't know how she came by it. She passed when I was young."

"Was she like you?"

"You mean green?" Elphaba asked, crossing her arms.

Glinda shook her head.

"I mean smart," and beautiful, she wanted to add but didn't.

Elphaba blushed, glancing away to hide it.

"She liked to read. Before she put me to sleep, she would read me stories, but I can't remember much else. Except that she loved me."

"What does it feel like?"

Elphaba looked at her curiously.

"To be loved?" she asked.

Glinda nodded.

"I've never had to define it."

Of course she hadn't. No one needed to define it, because everyone had someone who loved them. Everyone except her.

"It was daft of me to ask," Glinda said, feeling exposed.

"To feel loved is to feel safe, valued, and wanted," Elphaba answered in a soft voice, a voice that said she wasn't daft at all.

Months passed, until one afternoon the snow returned for its last flurry before fully surrendering to late spring. Glinda was on her knees, scrubbing the kitchen floor, counting the candlemarks till Nessa would come downstairs to leave for Boq's. Hearing the clatter of heels on the staircase, she rose, grinning, until she saw _both_ sisters were dressed for the cold.

"Are you sure you don't need a chaperone?" Nessa asked.

Elphaba snorted.

"This isn't Munchkinland. I've no standing to ruin. But, I might ask the same of you. Haven't the Weavers said anything about how often you visit Boq?"

"I'll have you know Boq and I are never left alone. He's the perfect gentleman," Nessa said, opening the door. "I shall return late. Don't wait up."

Elphaba nodded, waving Nessa off from the doorway, before turning back to announce,

"I'm off to see Avaric this afternoon. We'll have to skip our lesson tonight."

Glinda's stomach clenched, but she kept her smile, nodded, and watched Elphaba shut the door. She fell back to her knees, back to her scrubbing, until an indentation of disappointment appeared in the floorboard.

Night came but neither Elphaba nor Nessa returned. Glinda stood by the window and waited. Where was Elphaba? What was keeping her? What if she fell into a bog? Or was chased by a wolf? Or was accosted by a forest ruffian? Glinda's mind played horrific fates as the candles melted into tiny nubs. She couldn't just wait here. She grabbed Nessa's extra mantle from the door hook and snatched their oil lamp, lit it, and walked toward the door when it opened by itself. Avaric walked in, carrying a tower of books, stamping his boots. Elphaba came in behind him cackling.

"It has nothing to do with my lack of gracefulness!" Avaric said, setting the books down on their table and rubbing a red mark on his forehead. "I couldn't see the branch over this mountain of books you made me haul."

Elphaba looked exuberant and carefree until she glanced at Glinda. She stopped and crossed her arms.

"Leaving somewhere?"

Why had Glinda worried at all? Clearly Elphaba was fine, more than fine, happier than she had ever seen her.

"Nowhere, my lady," Glinda said, returning to formalities, a move that made Elphaba raise an eyebrow.

"You're wearing Nessa's mantle?" Elphaba said, refusing to let the matter drop.

"Isn't it obvious? It's late," Avaric said, "She was about to search for you, weren't you Glinda?"

Elphaba snorted, shaking her head as if Glinda worrying about her whereabouts was the stupidest idea. Yes, stupid indeed. Stupid to care, to think that their lessons meant something, their time together important, even preferable to a long— _unchaperoned_ —night with a Gillikinese lobster. Elphaba examined her, taking in Avaric's suggestion. An incriminating heat spread across Glinda's cheeks. She peeled off Nessa's mantle and rushed to hang it up.

"Any potatoes left?" Avaric asked.

"I'll ready you a plate, Master Avaric," Glinda said, inhaling.

Elphaba came near and caught her arm.

"I'm sorry," Elphaba whispered, and to her own horror Glinda suddenly felt overwhelmed with the impulse to cry.

"Aren't you going to show her the books?" Avaric asked, his back to them.

"I'm just glad my lady is all right," Glinda whispered back, biting her lip and hoping for the pain to suppress her feelings.

"Did you tell her what you brought for her?" Avaric called out again.

What did he say? She hadn't been listening.

"For me?" Glinda asked.

"Elphaba tells me she's been teaching you to read," Avaric said, turning to face them, "She said you need books to practice with."

Glinda's gaze flew to Elphaba whose arms wrapped around herself like a shawl.

"My lady brought books for _me_?"

"I brought them," Avaric said, flexing his arms, "Elphaba requested."

The Munchkinlander waved them off, darkening, as she walked toward the table.

"A surprise request, I see," Avaric said, chuckling.

"Avaric stop being a pest or I shall send you home," Elphaba said, collecting the stack of books and heading upstairs, leaving the two Gillikinese on their own.

Glinda set down a plate of potatoes for Avaric and stood, hands behind her back, head properly bowed, at the other end of the table.

"Sit."

She sat.

"Elphaba says you don't remember anything from your past, not even where you're from."

"That is right, my lord."

"Your accent places you around Mount Runcible," he said.

 _Mount Runcible._ The name sounded familiar.

"Is that near to where my lord is from?" Glinda asked. Perhaps Avaric could bring back a shard of the life she once lived after all.

"No, Mount Runcible is a two days ride from my homeland of Tenniken, but it's less than a half day's walk from here," Avaric said.

What was this? Her company lived less than a ride away but hadn't even come for her?! She forced a smile and masked the pain of her discovery with another question,

"But, if my lord's home is in Tenniken, why does he choose to live in the forest?"

Avaric's smile wilted, the crook of his mouth twitching, before he set down his quivering fork and said,

"There's no son to return home."

"But how can my lord say this, when—"

"Enough of me, it's all a complete bore, I assure you," he interrupted, getting up from the table. He took a seat closer to Glinda and entreated, "Let us talk more of you, Fair Miss Glinda."

"There is little to tell."

"Do you like carnivals?"

"I don't know."

"Have you ever heard of the Wonderful Wizard of Oz?" Avaric asked.

Glinda shook her head.

"They say the Wizard of Oz is capable of doing amazing things, terrifying things. Every carnival he hosts, he grants wishes, some carnivals three or four, and some carnivals only one. But, he might be able to help you."

"Me?"

"If you wished for it, he might be able to return your memory."

"Could he really?"

If she remembered who she was, she could find her company, find Elphaba's jewels, and make everything right.

"It's worth a try, and even if he can't, his carnival is a glorious affair, a debauchery no good woman should miss. A few of the Munchkin merchants are going. I'm sure they can find someone with some extra tickets to sell. Would you like to go?"

"Of course!"

"Then it's settled!" Avaric said.

"I've prepared the beds," Elphaba announced, coming down the stairs, "We'll have to sleep in my room tonight."

"All of us in one bed?" Avaric asked.

"Don't be vulgar. You will sleep on the floor. Glinda and I will share the bed," Elphaba said.

Before Glinda could get over the shock of their new sleeping arrangements, Avaric declared,

"Very well. And, while you were gone, we too have made some preparations. We have a plan to get Glinda's memory back!"

* * *

 **A/N:** I'm terribly sorry for the longest update wait to date! However, your lovely messages in the meantime where so wonderful to receive. A big thanks to all the followers and guests who stopped to leave reviews! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Please let me know your thoughts. They are helpful in planning the next chapters. Much more to come. :)


	13. Chapter 13

_Master Avaric Tenmeadows, at your service._ Hell and hell! She told him, warned him, forbid him from mentioning anything about Glinda's past. Now as she paced in her bedroom, with Avaric standing sheepishly in the corner, Glinda waiting downstairs, her own chest caving at the thought of the Princess of Gillikin, Avaric said,

"But, I didn't mention she was aristocracy."

"You weren't supposed to mention anything at all!" she shouted.

"I thought you would want this."

She threw him a whittling glare.

"Come now, woman. You don't have to pretend. It's obvious you care for her. You must want her to remember herself," he said.

Elphaba's stomach reeled.

"Care? For her?"

"The way you danced with her in the ballroom—"

"I had no choice!"

"The way you spend your afternoons teaching her—"

"I was bored!"

"The way you _stare_ at her when you think no one is looking!"

"I—" She blushed.

What right did Avaric have to say any of this?

"It's all quite entertaining and very understandable. Glinda's beautiful. A ripe luscious peach," he said as if picking a scab. No matter how bloody it got, he just kept ripping. "Don't be cross. I have my sights set on someone else," he said.

"What?"

"Glinda is yours for the taking."

"I will not be taking anyone! _Least_ of all Glinda!" she shouted.

"You don't have to be embarrassed. I happen to be discerning—"

"Discern my words right now. If you ever intimate something like this again, it shall be the last time we speak!" she said.

Nothing could happen. It couldn't. She couldn't. Acknowledge the abnormal pleasure that had developed inside her watching Glinda on her hands, on her knees, bowing her head, baring her bottom. Couldn't dare admit how dancing with Glinda's body pressed close had made her heart quicken, her breath shallow, her hands moisten. And she wholly denied that her daily lessons with a thinking, reasoning, wondering Glinda had filled her with a rapture she had nearly forgotten. She couldn't admit it because deep down Elphaba knew. No matter how much she wanted to believe Galinda gone and Glinda different, she wasn't. They were forever wrapped in the same.

"Fine!" the man said, his hands flying in the air, "But even if you don't care for her, she's aristocracy. Why would she steal from you? Isn't there a chance those thieves might have kidnapped her before they came and robbed you? What if Glinda hadn't wanted to rob you at all?"

"You weren't even there!" Elphaba said.

"Does she look evil?"

"Not every devil comes with horns! As someone who served in the Gillikin army, I think you should know this better than anyone!"

Avaric's face tightened. His passionate polemic catching in his throat. Elphaba sighed. She had only meant to silence him, not throw him into the arms of his own devils. If only the eyes of memory slept.

"It's late. I trust you will be decent and stay to your side?" she said, changing the subject. He nodded, still lost in his visions. She turned toward the door. While that lunkhead had been downstairs planning a romp to the Wizard's carnival with Glinda, she had hung a white sheet over the low beam in her bedroom, cutting the room in two. On one side was her bed under the window, on the other side a pile of blankets near the door. The fireplace was partially visible on both sides.

She hadn't a choice. She couldn't let Nessarose walk in on a half-dressed man in the kitchen, which was too drafty for sleep anyway, and she certainly couldn't leave a half-naked man in Nessa's bedroom. That left Elphaba's room. Assigning Glinda to sleep with Avaric on the floor was indecent. Glinda in Nessa's room was even worse. Which meant she would have to share her bed with the woman. The mere thought made her queasy. Not out of disgust but fear and not of Glinda but herself. Elphaba had been hiding from them. Glinda's looks. Looks that had become so explicit they made Elphaba blush. What made it worse was she stole glimpses herself and Avaric wasn't the only one who had noticed. Glinda started to arrange herself in ways to give Elphaba a more _pleasant_ view. A tilt of her collar bone here. A loosening of her button there.

She had to fight it. That pull. Every lesson with Glinda. She felt it. How easy it would be to bend down, to slide over, to touch her. Glinda was so willing, so captive, so eager for her approval. But it wasn't real. Glinda didn't know who she was. Glinda's feelings were based on a spell, a lie. If Glinda regained her memories, she would surely hate her far more than Galinda ever had. More importantly what right did Elphaba have to enjoy Glinda at all? What right did she have to find any sort of happiness in the husk of a woman who destroyed them? All she could do was try to educate Glinda, make her nothing like the Galinda that was.

Elphaba left Avaric to undress by himself, closing the door behind her. She walked down the corridor, to the staircase, descending to see Glinda sweeping, lost in thought. How beautiful she was. The roll of her hips, the line in her shoulders, the tilt of her neck, it was if she was dancing. Stop it! Elphaba sighed through her nose and called from the staircase,

"The bed's ready."

Glinda spun around, her eyes anxious. Had the idea of them together frightened her too? Glinda nodded, placing her broom in the corner, and following Elphaba upstairs, down the hall to their door. Elphaba knocked. Light snoring was the only reply. Elphaba opened the door to find on the floor, the tips of Avaric's hair and the edges of his toes poking out from under a pile of blankets. She pointed Glinda toward the partition. The blonde crept along the wall, past Avaric's boots, and behind the sheet. After shutting the door, Elphaba tip-toed across and pulled back the white cloth to find Glinda unbuttoning. The Gillikinese woman looked over her smooth bare shoulder.

 _Seeing what a real woman looks like?_

Elphaba flinched half-expecting Glinda's soft smile to dissolve into Galinda's sneer. But Glinda only blushed and bit her lip before turning back around. How reserved Glinda was. Galinda knew her beauty and its effects, but Glinda was so uncertain, so shy. Tonight, even shyer than usual. They had undressed in this room, night after night, but never this close. Elphaba looked at the bed with its single pillow and swallowed. One roll and they would be on top of each other. What would Glinda look like pinned beneath her? Elphaba shut her eyes and undid the claps of her dress. It was only several hours. Several hours and everything would be fine. Or at least return to the way it was.

It had gotten worse since she started reading Nessa's red book: _The Good Witch of the Great Gillikin Forest._ She had thought there might be stories of the Kumbric Witch. There were. But there were just as many detailed love stories of St. Galinda and St. Aelphaba, how they looked, how they laughed, how they loved. They were a pair of star-crossed lovers. Long ago, St. Galinda had been the daughter of the fairy ruler of the forest, and St. Aelphaba had been the daughter of a great and powerful wizard. Meeting at a ball they were taken with each other. As the months passed, the two women sent letters, met at social gatherings, and fell in love. St. Aelphaba's father had planned to take over the fairy forests, enslaving the fairies, and capturing their magic. When he found his daughter was in love with one, he flew into a murderous rage, forbidding St. Aelphaba from seeing St. Galinda ever again. But she defied him. She ran away, sharing his plot with the fairy kingdom. Furious that he had been betrayed by his own blood, he chased the two women down, murdering St. Galinda and imprisoning St. Aelphaba, cursing them both. Every time their spirits returned to Oz they would be enthralled with one another as they once were, only to find their love doomed.

It was strange enough that the two women in the stories had Elphaba and Glinda's names, stranger still that St. Aelphaba was described as discolored and St. Galinda golden-haired, but the strangest of all was St. Aelphaba's feelings for St. Galinda. Her longings to touch her, the warmth she felt when St. Galinda was near, the ache she felt at seeing St. Galinda smile. It was as if St. Aelphaba was her. Elphaba couldn't but remember how drawn she was to the Princess the very first day she had seen her in the ballroom. And the way she was more than drawn to Glinda now. Every time she glanced at Glinda it was getting harder not to imagine St. Galinda. But the two saints' love story was just that—a story, a fable, a fantasy, nothing more. Glinda wasn't a fairy princess, she was the very real princess of Gillikin, a princess who had cost her something far more precious than her own self—Shell.

These burgeoning feelings for Glinda weren't just wrong, they were disloyal. Elphaba waited for him every morning. If he only knew he could come home. She would receive him. He had done nothing wrong. She still loved him. If only she could find the Kumbric Witch again. She would change her wishes, wish them home, wish they had won the war, wish for no war at all. Why had she been so rash with her wishes? Exhaling, she tossed her dress to the floor and turned to find Glinda standing in a near see-through chemise, arms crossed over her breasts.

"How do you want me?" she whispered.

 _Naked and willing_.

"What?" Elphaba rasped, clearing her mind.

"Shall I sleep outside or in?"

Elphaba hadn't the courage to be pinned between the wall and Glinda's body, not tonight.

"Inside."

Glinda nodded and slipped in. Resting on her back, she closed her eyes and folded her hands below her breasts. Wiggling her toes, she cooed with delight, apparently pleased with the softness of the bed.

"The sheet's not thick enough for _that_ ," Avaric said from his side.

Glinda's eyes popped open and her hands flew to her mouth.

"There is no _that_!" Elphaba said through the sheet, "Go to sleep." She looked at the floorboards where Glinda had slept for months. How unyielding they looked. Each crack looked like a crick of the neck, a smarting of limb. When she took Glinda in, she hadn't cared how uncomfortable the Princess was... no... she had taken pleasure in it. But, now with Glinda in her bed, how could she ever send her back to the floor? When she turned around,Glinda was sitting up, apparently interpreting her pause as regret. She scooted toward the edge of the bed about to descend to the floor.

"Are you all right?" Elphaba asked.

"I thought perhaps you—you didn't want..." Glinda stopped, biting her lip, looking at her lap.

"Didn't want any room to sleep?" Elphaba finished, pointing to the sliver between Glinda's folded legs and the edge of the bed.

"No! Of courses not," Glinda said, scooting so far back, her shoulder blades touched the frosted window. She inhaled sharply.

Elphaba got in. Watching Glinda wedge herself in the crack between the bed and the window, without thinking she reached over and grasped the back of Galinda's neck, like she would have done Nessa—Glinda looked too nervous to even take a breath—and pulled her close, scooting half her pillow over for Glinda. The blonde's cheeks were rosy as they lay facing each other on their shared cushion. Her lips so full. So warm and inviting in the moonlight. Elphaba reached out and cupped Galinda's cheek, brushing her lips with her thumb. Glinda inhaled a surprised whimper. She's not in a position to deny you. Stop this. Stop touching her. Elphaba removed her hand and turned over, clasping her blanket to her chest. Clenching her eyes shut, she heard Glinda whisper,

"Fresh dreams, Elphaba."

In Elphaba's dream, she was dancing with Glinda in the treehouse ballroom. They were spinning. Elphaba pulled Glinda close, her dress down. She kissed Glinda's shoulder, her neck, her shy lips. Glinda was squirming, but Elphaba pulled, tugged, and kissed. When she awoke, her eyes still closed, her own lips were pressed against something warm, her hand wrapped around something smooth, her blanket somehow heavier than she remembered. It undulated, wiggling up and down.

"Elphie," a voice whispered in her ear. "Elphie, please! Wake up!"

Elphaba's eyes fluttered open. Her blanket was Glinda. The blonde was draped over her, struggling to prop herself on her elbows, her shift falling away from her skin. Elphaba's mouth was pressed against the start of Glinda's breasts. Her hand gripped Glinda's thigh. She had pulled it over her body. Her fingers were at the precipice of soft moist flesh. Moist?! Elphaba rolled toward Glinda, sliding the woman off her and onto the bed. Her hand flying behind her back. She leaned over to examine Glinda.

"Did I..." she whispered, uncertain of just how long she fondled Glinda, just how far her hand had ventured.

Glinda shook her head.

"You were moaning. I thought it was a nightmare. I tried to wake you. I must have startled you."

Elphaba's cheeks burned. Moaning, was she? Moaning while she stripped Glinda in her dream and fondled Glinda in her bed. Elphaba's mouth went acrid.

"You didn't hurt me," Glinda assured her, "You wouldn't hurt me. I know you wouldn't."

She didn't know. She had no idea that every hurt she experienced was Elphaba's fault. Elphaba had wished it so. Glinda reached up to stroke her cheek, searching her face, trying to decipher her stillness. It was too much to bear. Elphaba took Glinda's hand, wanting to tear it away, but her body betrayed her. Still half-asleep, still half-aroused, she pressed Glinda's palm against her cheek. She felt so empty. So tired. Of waiting. Of wanting. She wanted to give in, give up, give over. And then like a flood her feelings unfolded with a speed she couldn't control. She was leaning down, closing in, like in her dream, like the night of the dance. Her lips touched Glinda's cheek. Glinda gasped, her chest rising. Elphaba couldn't stop. She moved over and kissed Glinda's mouth. Such soft warm wetness. Glinda went rigid. Elphaba adorned her mouth with gentle kisses, and finally Glinda came to life. She kissed back. Light, small, wet caresses. How passionately tender Glinda was. Not like the Galinda's condescending gropes. Elphaba sipped Glinda's bottom lip. Likes waves they pulled back and forth into a fierce heady rhythm.

The door slammed downstairs.

Nessarose! Elphaba flew off Glinda, turning onto her side, facing the pale sheet, her back to the blonde. Her fingers brushed her lips. She could still feel the imprint of Glinda. Could even smell her excitement. Oh, what had she done? What had she done?! She heard Nessa walk up the stairs and into her bedroom. All was quiet. Except for Avaric's light snore. Except for her own pounding heart. Except for Glinda's tight shallow breaths. She didn't dare turn around. Didn't dare acknowledge what happened.

The next morning Elphaba woke before Glinda, rising from the bed with one long glance over her shoulder at the sleeping woman. So serene. How could something so peaceful make Elphaba's heart feel like it might collapse and explode at the same time? She needed to clear her mind. She got dressed and peeked out from the sheet to find Avaric missing, his blankets neatly folded in a pile in the corner. Scooting past the cloth, she walked outside into the hallway to hear talking and laughing downstairs. On the stairs, she smelt something savory and saw Boq and Avaric laughing by the fire.

"Good morning," she said.

Boq turned and grinned.

"Elphaba! Good morning!"

"My sister let you sleep here?" she asked.

He nodded and said,

"She wouldn't let us return home in the dark."

"We?" Elphaba asked.

"Yes, _we_ ," Pfannee said stepping out from behind the stairs and Elphaba flinched. "Avaric stayed here too, I see. In _your_ bedroom, no less," she said.

"It wasn't all that exciting," Avaric said, with an exhale, "The only thing hard in there was the floor."

The women glared at him.

"Sit and join us," Avaric said to Elphaba, sprinkling salt on a peeled and skewered hare roasting over the fire. "Boq was just telling us about his plans to entertain the royal court."

"The Gillikinese royal court?" Elphaba asked, recalling in vivid detail the long red carpet and the maple banquet table, or at least the legs of it, the only things she could see while wearing her veil.

Boq nodded.

"Nanny says they're in need of entertainment for the summer festival. That perhaps she could put in a good word with the butler. He might put me on a list to audition."

"You mean Crope?"

"Yes! That's right. You must have met him when you served the Princess of Gillikin. Do you think there's a chance he might say yes?"

"I couldn't say..." Elphaba said, her stomach turning as more memories of the castle bubbled to the surface.

"Nanny says Runcible needs some festivities. There's rumor the Princess is very ill," Boq said.

So that was how Runcible handled Glinda's disappearance—an illness. Boq continued chatting while Avaric rose and sat next to Pfannee, whispering something in her ear, most likely bawdy considering the color of her cheeks.

"But," Boq said, "Nanny says she thinks the Princess isn't ill at all. She thinks she ran away. Perhaps ran into the forest. Imagine a Princess escaping here? We would have noticed a Gillikinese Princess in our midst, wouldn't we have?"

Elphaba swallowed. If Nanny already suspected, how soon would it be until King Upland realized it hadn't been Ugabu mages at all? Had he already realized it? Was the Castle about to search the forest themselves? Did Nanny link her sudden departure and Glinda's disappearance? What must the old woman have thought that terrible evening when she found Elphaba wandering the halls after Galinda had...had...

"She's asked about you," Boq added.

"Me? Elphaba coughed, walking over to the fire, her body chilled.

"She misses Your Eminence," Boq said, "She says the castle isn't the same without you. She wants you to know there's work in the castle if you wanted it."

"I don't."

"Didn't like having a master, did you?" Pfannee asked across the room.

"I didn't like Gillikinese royalty," Elphaba retorted.

Avaric cocked his head.

"They can't be much different than the Munchkin Royal family?" Pfannee said.

"They're as similar as a sunburn and an immolation," Elphaba said.

"What's so different about them?" Avaric asked.

How could one begin to describe the abuses of Gillikin?

"Munchkinland may not have known how to govern its people well," Elphaba started.

"May not?" Pfannee said, springing to her feet, her eyes watering with offense.

"Fine," Elphaba said. "We failed you. We failed our people. We failed to discharge our duties toward you as your stewards, but there was no pleasure in that. No joy in your suffering. The same cannot be said for Gillikinese royalty who take a perverse pleasure in torturing everyone around them."

"Surely not all of them?" Avaric asked.

"There's not a Gillikinese from Runcible who isn't a monster!" Elphaba said.

"Come now. What about our dear Glinda?" Avaric asked.

"What about her?" Elphaba snapped. Was he really going to bring up Glinda after last night?

"Surely you don't find all Runcible women monsters?"

She did. She had. Galinda was the worst monster of all.

But Glinda?

Glinda was...was... well she wasn't from Runcible. She was made in the Great Gillikin Forest. Shaped only by the events in their cabin. Elphaba wrung her hands as she thought of their most recent events.

"Have you nothing to say about Glinda?" Avaric prodded and Elphaba glowered.

"Good morning, Glinda! Come and eat with us!" Boq said and Elphaba spun around. The blonde stood at the top of the staircase, looking down at her, waiting for her answer. Elphaba had none to give. She was stopped by the sight of Glinda's swollen lips. Her own handiwork. She cringed and turned back toward Avaric and Pfannee.

"Good morning everyone," Glinda said and walked down, coming behind Elphaba and whispering in her ear,

"Last night, did you—"

Elphaba's stomach plummeted. Not here. Not in front of everyone. She turned and pulled Galinda away toward the front door as Avaric started telling another story. Clutching her dress in one hand, Elphaba took a deep breath. It didn't mean anything. It was an accident. It would never happen again. Just tell her something. But Glinda spoke first.

"You were gone this morning," the blonde whispered, "and I thought...well—oh, Elphaba, you can take from me whatever you want from me. Only don't stop speaking to me. I couldn't bear it again," Glinda said and Elphaba dropped her dress.

 _Take_ whatever she wanted? Is that what Glinda thought she must do to earn her forgiveness, her kindness, her conversation? She must let Elphaba touch her, roll on her, and take advantage of her. Of course. It wasn't like Glinda had wanted to kiss her. She wanted kindness, not a molesting.

"Glinda! Come. Sit by me!" Boq chirped and Glinda hesitated for a moment, waiting, but Elphaba, like a coward, gestured with her chin for her to go. She never felt so grateful for the Munchkin boy. She needed to get away. How could she have been so presumptuous? How could she ever think that Glinda might have really enjoyed it? Her chest tightened. She turned toward the staircase and found Nessa coming down in a red gown and matching ruby red slippers, her hair neatly braided with blue ribbons. Her sister stared at her for a half-second longer than usual, twisting her nose, before she adjusted her face, and exclaimed,

"Elphaba, has he told you?"

"Told me what?"

"I haven't told anyone anything," Boq said with a grin. "I've waited for you."

"Waited to tell me what?" Elphaba asked.

"He's gotten tickets for us all to go the Wizard's carnival at the end of August!" Nessa announced.

The room erupted with surprised inhales. That was only three months away.

"Isn't it wonderful?" Nessa asked.

"Boq—" Elphaba's breath caught. She should thank him, but the impulse to throw him head first out the window was too strong. Why couldn't he keep his meddling charity to himself?

"Oh, Master Boq! How very generous of you!" Glinda said, looking as if she might lean over and hug him.

"Very generous, but Glinda can't go," Elphaba said.

Glinda's grateful expression turned into confusion.

"You don't want me with you?" she asked standing up, an eyebrow arched.

Elphaba looked around. Everyone was staring at her. Even Nessarose looked on disbelieving, seeming to wonder why Elphaba wanted to spoil her joyful tidings.

"If it's Glinda's chores, maybe I could help," Boq said. "Then, we might all go together."

"I could help too," Pfannee offered.

"It's not her chores!" Elphaba said and bolted upstairs, into her bedroom, shutting the door behind her, and walking straight into a pace, from wall to adjacent fireplace and back again. She didn't have an excuse and she didn't need one. Not for any of them. Her brother had said the Wizard was a swindler. He was likely a fraud. But, several months ago Elphaba had thought the same about forest fairies. Myths. Superstition. Nonsense. But, if this Wizard was anything like Yackle, Elphaba wasn't ready for it. None of them were. She was protecting Nessa, the cripple, Avaric, the deserter, and the Weavers, that band of criminal thieves. That's all they would be in the eyes of Runcible. And most of all, she was protecting Glinda, keeping her from disappearing altogether.

A knock sounded on her bedroom door. Had her sister come with questions? She would just tell Nessarose that Glinda planned to get her memory back. Nessa would find an excuse. This was all her doing! If she hadn't been so interested in the carnival, none of this would have happened at all!

"Come in," she said and flinched at the sight of Glinda. The blonde shut the door behind her, leaning against it, before she stared up at Elphaba with both deference and distress. Elphaba's stomach turned. What did it matter how Glinda looked? What she thought? How she felt?

"Listen—" Elphaba started, intending to order Glinda back downstairs.

"Are you afraid?" Glinda asked.

"Afraid?"

"Afraid that I'll become a monster again?" Glinda asked.

Just how long had Glinda been standing on those stairs?

"Last night Master Avaric told me he could tell where I was from by my voice and..."

Avaric! That man! Did his idiocy know no bounds?! She would see to him later, as soon as Glinda finished.

"Please, Elphaba, please let me see the Wizard," Glinda begged.

Elphaba pressed the material of her dress between her fingers. It wasn't possible. Glinda didn't know what she was asking for.

"You see," Glinda continued, "I don't want to be Galinda. I only want to make things right. If I knew who stole from you, where they were, I could find them, find your jewels. There wouldn't be any harm in that?"

"Glinda," Elphaba whispered. What was she to do with such kindness? Even after everything Elphaba had done to her, even after last night, Glinda still wanted to make her happy. Elphaba had done her best to snip any tenderness from Glinda in the bud, leaving headless the stems of her good intentions, but somewhere she must have been careless, somewhere amidst Glinda's onslaught of goodness, she must have let herself feel more than a tiny joy, because as Glinda pleaded, she realized that as much as, or even more than she was afraid of coming face-to-face with Galinda, she was terrified of losing Glinda.

"We don't know what will happen with your wish," she said.

Glinda came near.

"If I get my wish, if I remember, I wouldn't be like those Runcible Gillikinese."

At Glinda's pronunciation of Runcible, Elphaba could smell herself. The way Galinda used to make her. She could see her brother blind-folded. She covered her mouth, shaking her head. Don't come apart. Don't look like a fool. Not in front of her. Not again. Not now. But, the memories were too strong and she fell to her knees, dry heaving.

"Elphaba? Oh, Elphaba!" Glinda said, kneeling beside her.

Elphaba regained herself, swallowing down her sour bile. What an imbecilic child she must seem, shaking on her knees, denying Glinda a chance to remember herself over some tragedy with a previous employer.

"If I promise not to ask the Wizard, will you let me go with you?" Glinda asked.

"And just why would give up your wish?" Elphaba asked.

Glinda looked down at her lap.

"No wish is worth your friendship."

Her friendship? Glinda would give up her past for that? Elphaba had lost faith in friendship. Or, more nearly, decided it was safer to believe friends didn't exist. Elphaba was an oddity, something curious, something tolerated, something horrifying, never something kept. Why would Glinda want her for a friend? It was as if Elphaba was leaning over a candle. Feeling hot and unbearable, she blurted,

"If you don't ask anything, you may go."

"I can go? I can see the show with you?" Glinda asked, bouncing up and down on her knees.

Elphaba nodded, crossing her arms.

"Oh, Elphie," Glinda said and in a bounce of excitement leaned over and kissed Elphaba's cheek.

They leaned away from one another, both thinly silent, Elphaba afraid to displace any bit of air, afraid if either one acknowledged Glinda's kiss, they would have to acknowledge last night, acknowledge right now, the right-now desire to pull Glinda into her arms and hold her fast. But she didn't worry long. Nessarose opened her door, hands on her hips. Elphaba rose to her feet.

"Fabala, what's gotten into you?" Nessa asked, "Boq's done something wonderful for us, and if you didn't want Glinda to go, you should have waited to tell me after he left!"

"I've changed my mind," Elphaba said.

Nessa glanced at Glinda who rose from the floor, seeming to take in the unnaturalness of the couple's prior position. Shaking her head, she said, "Good! Now come downstairs and tell Boq yourself!"

After the guests left, and the sun began to fall, and Nessa opened the Blessed Oziad by the kitchen fireplace, Elphaba called Glinda to their room for their lessons. Leaning against their closed door, Elphaba watched Glinda kneel on the bed and peruse Avaric's pile of books on the window sill. Here was her chance to explain, to make things right, but Elphaba who always knew what she wanted to say, and when she wanted to say it, couldn't find the words.

Picking a book, Glinda turned and asked,

"Shall we sit and read together on the bed?"

Elphaba shook her head.

"Read aloud on your own today. I'll help if you can't pronounce something."

Glinda nodded and sat back against the headboard and opened her chosen book on raised knees.

"It's a collection of short stories," she said, "May I choose any one?"

"Any one you want."

Flipping toward the end, she read, "Love's Summer. Once upon a time, Saint Aelphaba and Saint Galinda..."

Elphaba had become quite fond of Glinda lately. It wasn't just that Glinda was beautiful, irritatingly so, which made Elphaba want to touch her, as one does with most things beautiful, but Glinda was also sincerely curious. Behind all those blonde curls was a mind struggling to work, and Elphaba looked forward to those workings more and more. They had discussed the history of Ozian dialects, the artistic traditions of Munchkinland, and last week even the competing theologies of Unionism and the pleasure faith.

"On a bed of lilies, St. Aelphaba opened St. Galinda's dress and uncovered her breasts," Glinda read.

 _What_? Had she misheard?

But, looking up, Elphaba saw a pink-cheeked Glinda clenching her red book, reading, "Leaning down St. Aelphaba took one of Galinda's nipples in her—"

Elphaba raced over and ripped the book from Glinda's hands.

"I told you to pick a book from the pile!" she said, hiding the book behind her back.

"It _was_ on the pile," Glinda said quietly, fidgeting with the quilt, unable to look Elphaba in the eyes.

"But, it isn't one of Avaric's books."

"But you read from it," Glinda said.

Elphaba blushed a deep bell pepper green.

"I...read many books."

"None quite as much as this one," Glinda said, "Every morning you—"

"Fine! Fine," Elphaba said, "But, this is a book one reads privately, not—"

"Aloud with one's mistress?" Glinda finished, smoothing out the hem of her dress.

"Definitely not," Elphaba said, her throat suddenly dry.

"Their names...they're like ours," Glinda said.

"But spelled differently," Elphaba said, in a shaky voice, that made her blush even more. As if spelling made a difference, as if that made it better that she spent her mornings reading love stories about two women who sounded and looked just like them. It was an unspoken boundary between them. They didn't discuss whatever this was between them, at least not verbally. Glinda wouldn't. She wouldn't.

"They were lovers."

Would.

Elphaba grunted, looking out the window. Moments ago, apologizing for her kiss seemed impossible, but having failed that simple task, she had been flung into a far worse conversation.

"Have you ever felt like St. Aelphaba did?" Glinda continued.

Elphaba flushed a deep pine. Wasn't it obvious? Did Glinda want her to confess? Admit she felt exactly like St. Aelphaba. That she too wanted a blonde Gillikinese, to hold, to undress, to take her nipples in her...

Glinda cleared her throat.

"I mean...have you ever been with a woman like St. Aelphaba?" she asked and Elphaba's stomach dropped. She clutched her black dress. She had. But that was different. So very different.

"They aren't the same things," Elphaba said, closing her eyes against the memories of Galinda that started to roll in like a damp fog.

"What do you mean?"

" _Being_ with someone like that and have feelings for someone. They don't always happen together," she said, swallowing against the sourness in her throat. Galinda's not here. She's not here. She's not anywhere. When Elphaba opened her eyes, Glinda was sitting on her knees, studying her, in either earnestness or disbelief.

"Does my lady mean when she kissed me, she felt nothing?" Glinda asked, returning to Elphaba's title, a move, Elphaba realized, she did when she felt hurt.

"Last night...what happened..." Elphaba said, slowly, wanting to choose the right words, words that wouldn't make this muddle any worse. She looked down at the floor; a heat rose in her chest, "I should have never kissed you. Just because you serve here, doesn't mean I, or anyone else, can touch you like that."

"And if _I_ should want it? If I should want you to touch me?" Glinda asked and bit her lip.

Elphaba swallowed.

"You can't want it," she said.

"Because of our stations?"

Elphaba shook her head and said,

"Because you don't know who you are."

"Was," Glinda corrected. "I know who I am. I know... what I want."

"And if you _were_ married?" Elphaba asked.

Glinda's eyes rounded in surprise. Clearly she hadn't even considered it.

"What then?" Elphaba asked.

"I don't think I am married," Glinda declared.

"Why shouldn't you be?"

"No one came looking for me when you took me in," Glinda said, "If I was married, certainly my husband would have come back for me, and if he didn't, then it isn't a marriage worth remembering."

Elphaba would have been amused with Glinda's unruffled reasoning if she didn't need Glinda to cede. She hadn't expected this. She hadn't expected Glinda to actually want her. Want her friendship, certainly. Willing to exchange her body for it, apparently. But wanting Elphaba to want her. Wanting Elphaba to touch her. Finding pleasure in Elphaba's pleasure. Was beyond all expectation. She couldn't allow it. She couldn't allow Glinda to fall in love with a captor. That's what she was. Imprisoning Glinda in her fantasy of revenge. And Elphaba couldn't allow herself to fall. Fall in love with a depraved princess. They couldn't be. She had to stop this, whatever it was, for both their sakes.

"Have you no self-respect? Must you make me say it?" Elphaba asked, with a raised voice, "I have no such feelings for you! You were convenient last night. That is all. Who reaches for the unrefined and coarse in the sober light of day?"

Glinda's gaze went unnaturally stiff, her eyes started to mist, her chin trembled, and then she nodded, with one clean jerk, and scurried off the bed, tumbling toward Elphaba. Her shoulder brushed against Elphaba's hip, before she caught her balance, and sped out the door. That's right. Leave, Glinda. Go. Let me be. Elphaba could hear Glinda barrel down the stairs. The front door opened and slammed. Nessa's called her. Once. Twice. Silence. It was over. This silly nothing between them. Terminated. Where was her relief? Emptiness expanded in her like incense. Out of her stomach. Through her chest. From her nostrils. She couldn't hear a sound, except her heart lubbing in her ears. Her lip quivered. A hot needling started behind her eyes. Her chest felt unbearably heavy. This was all wrong. Why did she feel worse? What had she done? Why hadn't she found another way to deny Glinda's affections? A way that didn't make her run away. What if Glinda didn't come back? Elphaba needed to find her. She needed her to know...She turned and bolted out of her door, down the stairs to find Nessa standing at the end of the stairwell, scowling.

"What's going on between you two?" she asked.

"Not now, Nessa!"

"There's something strange between you. Or, haven't you noticed the way Glinda looks at you?" she asked, stepping back toward the door to let Elphaba pass.

"Everyone stares. Or have you forgotten that I'm green?" Elphaba asked, grabbing the oil lamp from the kitchen table.

"She doesn't stare at you like that, now does she? She doesn't look at you out of terror or disgust. She looks enamored with you— beholden even. You must notice it!"

There was no use denying it and no time to explain it.

"I thought you appreciated Glinda of late," Elphaba said, lighting the lamp. She had to get Glinda. She had to apologize properly this time. No matter the consequences.

"Don't exaggerate. I tolerate her. That's different than letting her call me by my name, or wanting her in my bed!"

Elphaba straightened and looked over her shoulder at her sister. Nessa only raised an eyebrow. So her sister woke up earlier than she let on. She must have gone into her bedroom to tell her about Boq's surprise and received quite a surprise herself.

"Glinda slept there because of Avaric," Elphaba said.

"When _she_ could have slept in the barn. And don't think I don't know what you're doing when I leave for Boq's!" Nessa said before Elphaba could mention the draft, "Pfannee's told me all about you teaching Glinda to read. What good do you think will come of that?"

"Is there something wrong with educating her?"

"Oh, please, as if that's why you do it. Don't embarrass yourself or me!"

"Embarrass you?"

"The Weavers believe you're having an affair with Avaric—"

"Avaric?! Who in Oz would want—"

"At least he's low aristocracy, but if it was rumored you were having your way with a servant—Oh, the humiliation of it!"

"How can you care what they think?" Elphaba asked, thoroughly exasperated, "We've no honor to protect anymore."

"We've only our honor! It's the only thing that separates us from the Weavers, the Gillikinese, from any of them—our virtue, a sign of our royal blood and kept pieties."

Elphaba cackled. The splendor of the Thropp family line. It never seemed so meaningless! The rituals of Unionism never so futile. The hierarchies of Oz never so arbitrary. Anachronistic Nessa. Her adages felt no better than hymns—words from which all belief had flown.

"How dare you laugh!" Nessa said, her thin eyebrows furrowing, her cheeks filling with air. "Answer me! Do you feel something for the girl?"

She did feel things. With Glinda, Elphaba felt silly, she felt pretty, she felt valuable, and, sometimes, she even felt happy. "You don't even have the decency to feel ashamed!" Nessa screeched.

Shame? What did Nessa know of shame? Each morning Elphaba waited by the window, imagining what she could have done, should have done. She found a thousand ways to save him. And confessed a thousand times she failed him. She called it upon herself. Under the weight of her deficiencies, she thought she would fade into ash. It was Glinda who breathed life into her dirt and rot. Made her useful. Kept her mind on letters, metaphors, and imagery, instead of water, sex, and shame. Reminded her of her other self, her smart self, her read self, her good self, her Colwen Ground self. Let her imagine for a moment, that that self, herself, wasn't a faded memory but a breathing possibility. And Elphaba had sent her away. Pierced her. With such horrible words.

"How could you care for her?" Nessa yelled. "You know what's she done!"

"She hasn't done anything!" Elphaba shouted.

"What?"

"She isn't Galinda!"

Nessa blinked rapidly, waving a pale hand, as if to ward off Elphaba's declaration.

"Not Galinda? Do you know how you sound? You've gone mad! You _do_ have feelings for her!" Nessa shrieked. "How could you? How could you?!"

Elphaba pushed past Nessa, rushing out the door.

"You disgust me!" Nessa hurled in a feral hiss.

It didn't matter. Nessa's disgust. The Weavers' gossip. Her own embarrassment. None of it mattered. She needed to find her. Needed to tell her the truth. That she was anything but coarse. That Elphaba had felt something when they kissed. Had wanted to reach for her. Still wanted to reach for her. But, that no matter how they longed for each other, they couldn't act on their impulses. Not under the circumstances. It wasn't Glinda's fault. It was just the way things were. She dashed to the barn and opened the door, running through, looking in every pen, checking them twice. No Glinda. She ran out past the well, through the trees, over the small hill, the large hill, around the bog, across the meadow. But, no Glinda. Where could she have gone? Elphaba was far in the forest, her lungs burning, her legs jittery, the smell of cedar rich, the evening winds rough, the moon high. And then, she saw the wishing tree. Had she gotten turned around? She had run farther than this, hadn't she? She walked over and pulled back the curtain of branches. No Glinda here either. Just her rock. She went in and sat down to catch her breath.

"Where can she be?" she whispered.

"Not far," a voice replied and Elphaba jumped.

"Who said that?"

"Surely you remember me, my dear," the voice said and Elphaba turned around, to see a glowing hand pull back the branches. A young woman entered with black irises and translucent skin so bright it hurt to look at her. Elphaba raised a hand to shield her eyes.

"Yackle!" she said.

"It's been a while, my child."

"It's been seven months! What have you done to us?"

"I did what you asked."

"I asked for Galinda to be punished, not to live with her! And my brother, where is he?!"

The Witch clucked her tongue.

"I am a fairy godmother, not a god. There are limits to wishes, both their quantity and their form. And you didn't have to _live_ with her."

"You mean I could have left her to die in the snow?"

Yackle only shrugged.

"Anyway, my dear poppet," she said, "You aren't the only ones I'm saving."

"Saving? How is this saving anyone?"

"Glinda's paying for her crimes. Isn't she?"

Glinda's paying for Galinda's crimes, yes, but, that's not what she wanted. Elphaba wanted Galinda to suffer for her evils, not be transformed into someone else.

"You didn't just wash her memory, did you? You made her someone different."

"Different?"

"She's nothing like Galinda."

"Whatever do you mean?" Yackle asked.

"She's... kind."

The fairy godmother smirked.

"Was Galinda never _kind_ before?"

Elphaba snorted. Galinda was a heartless brute.

"Never?" Yackle asked once more.

 _Milla_. Elphaba remembered. Galinda had been kind to Milla.

"Not to me," she said.

"Not even once?" Yackle asked again.

Once. Once Galinda took Sir Chuffrey's punishment for her. A slip, she had called it. An accident of morals, never to happen again.

"I assure you Elphaba, outside of her memory, I've not changed any of Galinda's other faculties."

What did that mean? In a rush, Elphaba felt Galinda whisper hotly— _Dance for me_. She shuddered. Was Glinda really the same as that wretch?

"Glinda is what Galinda could have been," Yackle answered her thoughts. "For it's not just she who's changed. You aren't the same to her either."

Who was she to Glinda? _The Charming Protector of our Gillikinese Whore,_ she heard Nessa say.

"She's attracted to me," Elphaba admitted, feeling her face flush.

"And, are you?

"Me?"

"Are you attracted to her?"

"It doesn't matter. It can't happen. Not with everything that has."

She couldn't salve the wound of Galinda with Glinda. And then Elphaba realized how she could make it right, how she should make it right. The very thing she had been most afraid of. That was the sacrifice she had to make. That was the only way. With everyone she had lost, maybe she could still save Glinda, in a way.

"Take her back," Elphaba said. "Take Glinda back! I retract my wish."

Yackle sighed and said,

"I can undo Glinda if you want. But, if I do, then I must take the rest back."

"You mean Shell? I would lose that wish as well?"

"You could always wait for your brother to come back on his own, but there would be no assurance that he would."

"When will he come? Where is he?"

"I cannot say. But, know that once a wish is made, it shall be done, in full. He shall return to you in time. Have no doubt," Yackle said. "But it isn't just Shell's wish you would have to return. If you wanted to undo Glinda, you must give up those ruby red shoes."

"Nessa's slippers?"

Yackle nodded. Nessa would never forgive her. It would kill her sister to have to hide in the cabin again, without even a chair to move in.

"You can dissolve your wish at any time," the witch said, "Just put the red slippers on Glinda's feet and have her click her heels three times. I must be going now. You and her need me again."

"Glinda and I? But, I'm right here."

"You're in many places Aelphaba. This time at a place called Shiz University."

Shiz in Gillikin?

"A Munchkinland woman at a Gillikinese university?" Elphaba asked.

Yackle smiled and said as her light faded,

"Elphaba, if you want to find your Glinda, she's with the Weavers—at a place called The Philosophy Club. Goodbye for now, love."

"Wait! There's a Wizard who—"

The witch faded completely. Elphaba wasted no time. She picked up her dress and tore through the trees. She was in the treetops soon enough, being led down a treehouse corridor, by a busty Weaver with graying hair, and finally into a spacious dance hall, filled with drunk Munchkins, some half-dressed, some not dressed at all, guzzling down mugs of ale, engaging in all kinds of lewd dancing. True to Pfannee's word: Munchkin men were on one side and Munchkin women on the other. Pfannee danced with one woman with braided brown hair and bared breasts which swung to the music. The blonde Munchkin stopped when she saw Elphaba, grabbing her partner's hand, they both came over, sweaty and red-cheeked.

"I thought you weren't interested in this?" Pfannee asked, as the brunette, with an arm around the Weaver, grabbed Pfannee's chin and sloppily kissed her cheek.

"Where is she?" Elphaba asked, trying to keep her eyes in proper places.

"Who?"

"You know who!" Elphaba said.

Pfannee snickered.

"I don't have time for jokes. Tell me where she is!"

"Desperate to find her, eh, canker-blossom? Well, she isn't eager to be found. She's gone to a private room."

"A private room?" Elphaba asked, hoping _private_ meant a secluded tea closet, away from this debauchery.

"Elphaba!"

The three women turned to see Nessarose hurrying toward them. How dare her sister question her about Glinda when this is where she spent her time!

"Coming for Boq?" Elphaba asked, crossing her arms.

"Well, yes, he wasn't in the sitting room where he usually is," Nessa said. "They said he came here. Although I can't understand why he would. I've never seen such filth. And what's your excuse, dear sister? Haven't found enough activities to shame yourself with?"

"I'm looking for Glinda!" Elphaba said.

"Here?" Nessa asked.

Pfannee chuckled.

"Well, you're both in luck. Glinda and Boq are together."

"What?" both sisters asked.

"Over there, in that private room in the back," Pfannee pointed to a door past the dancing women."

They both ran, but Elphaba's legs were longer and more experienced. She opened the door first, to find a large wooden table on which were four mostly empty mugs of ale. Behind it was a sofa where Glinda was on her knees over Boq's lap, her back to Elphaba. Boq's little hands were wrapped around Glinda's waist. And Glinda leaned down and kissed him. Little by little by little. They didn't stop. They didn't even hear her come in, didn't even notice anything until Nessa lunged through the door, screaming. She pulled Glinda off. The blonde fell onto her bottom. Turning around, she looked up at Elphaba with surprised glossy eyes and very red lips. She scrambled to a stand.

"Elpha—" she started when Nessa moved forward.

SLAP!

Glinda staggered backward, falling into the table, her hand coming to her cheek.

"Slut!" Nessa yelled as Glinda stood up again, "Drunk! Harlot!"

"Don't hurt her, Nessa! It's not her fault," Boq said, holding Nessa back. "Leave her alone!"

"How could you? How could you?!" her sister screamed at him.

"Glinda and I...we—we have feelings for each other," he said.

Glinda shook her head, looking toward Elphaba with panicked eyes.

"You what!" Nessa screeched.

"Let's go," Elphaba said, grabbing Glinda's arm. The blonde nodded, wiping her mouth with her sleeve. Elphaba pulled her through throngs of dancing Munchkins, leaving Boq to fend off Nessa on his own.

Once back in their bedroom, Elphaba stood by the fireplace. Glinda stood near her, by their bed. Elphaba couldn't stomach this feeling. It was nauseating, possessive, and stung with shameful force. All she could see was Glinda's mouth on Boq's. His hands on her. His red cheeks and her redder lips. Is that how Galinda had kissed her brother? Glinda wasn't so different from Galinda after all. She kissed whomever she wanted. Whenever she wanted. Without a thought for anyone. How stupid she was to think that Glinda had feelings for her. How stupid she was to want to protect Glinda's feelings. What was there to protect? Elphaba meant nothing to her. Elphaba was the only one who had been convenient. Galinda had taken advantage of her. So many times.

 _Undress and lay on the chair._

"I'm sorry. I should have never gone to the Club. I just wanted to feel, to feel..." Glinda said, looking at the floorboards, her breath sweet with ale. "What I mean is I hadn't planned to do those things. Master Boq and I—"

At the sound of the Munchkin's name, Elphaba's hurt blew into an icy anger.

"Is this all you want?!" Elphaba asked and grabbed Glinda's shoulders. She crushed her lips against the blonde's, but Glinda's lips didn't move. Elphaba kissed her again, but Glinda didn't respond. Not like she had for Boq. Elphaba flung the woman back onto their bed and kneeled in front of her. On her back, Glinda looked at her, nervous and bewildered. Elphaba clutched Glinda's thighs so fierce Glinda yelped. She wrenched Glinda's legs open.

"Please, Elphie, stop! Don't look there. Don't. Not like this. Please, not like this," Glinda pleaded, turning her face away.

* * *

 **A/N** : I've missed you all.


	14. Chapter 14

Alone on Elphaba's bed, Glinda hugged her knees, her breath a tumble of sobs. Elphaba kissed her but not like last night's kiss but in a wounding way that made Glinda go stiff with fear. She couldn't move. Elphaba had shoved her. Onto the bed. And squeezed her thighs so tight Glinda gasped. And then Elphaba opened her. Worse than how cheap Glinda felt was the shame. Could Elphaba see it? Her arousal lathered between her legs. She hadn't any love for Boq, but she had felt his love for her, his little love that pushed through his trousers. She let her body respond, moved against it as she kissed him. She wanted to feel pretty, and it didn't matter how. For when Elphaba had called her unrefined, suddenly, instantly, Glinda knew why. She saw. Her chapped hands. Her lockram dress. Her unruly curls. The dirt underneath her fingernails. It had been so plain it was unbearable. She ran from the cabin, deep into the forest, straight into Pfannee. The Munchkin held her, repeating—It's okay. Whatever it is, it will pass. Let it out—hugging her until her shaking stopped.

"I'll make you feel better," she said and led Glinda through the trees. Glinda was too numb to care where Pfannee led. It was only upon arrival, Glinda realized what _better_ meant. Her stomach see-sawed. A mixture of unanticipated arousal and unabated revulsion. Munchkin men and women stared. Pants and mouths open, breasts and silent flutes waving, hoots and whistles sounding from both sides of the room. Pfannee pulled her to a row of tree stumps along a long bar table. The patrons resumed their slinking, undressing each other, groping their affluences, and swaying to the music.

"I knew you'd be popular. You can have anyone—anyone you want," Pfannee said, winking.

The only one she wanted would never come here. It was beneath her. Just like Glinda was. Pfannee put down a pouch of salt. The barmaid took it and placed two mugs of ale in front of them. "Here," Pfannee said, grabbing one. Glinda thanked her and took a swig, foam lining her top lip. Mouthful after mouthful, she tried to float on those tiny light bubbles, above the weight of her sadness, above the anchor of her desire.

"—just what can he see in her?" Pfannee asked, fingering the rim of her empty mug.

"Mm?" Glinda swallowed, realizing that Pfannee had long exited consolation and entered into aggravation.

"It's not her looks. Nor her personality. And she won't make him happy. Like that celery stalk would know the first thing about pleasing a man!" Pfannee said.

"A man?" Glinda asked.

"Avaric! Didn't you know?"

They were _involved,_ Pfannee said _._ In relation, she said. In love, she said. Engaged, she said. Glinda thought if Pfannee said anything more she would vomit. Yes, Elphaba visited Avaric, always unaccompanied, well into the evening, coming home with an unusual joviality, but in love? Yes, they shared things: fine garments, persuasive secrets, an intimate levity, a closeness that made Glinda wonder if Elphaba might leave their cabin for his one day. But the silliest thing is…for the briefest of moments…Glinda thought _she_ could make Elphaba happy. What a half-wit she had been! What in Oz did she have to offer? Her body? Elphaba rejected it, declared it wanting.

A hot slithering wiggled in Glinda's gut. She couldn't compete. She couldn't even object. Avaric was handsome, educated, born to a good family. Far, far above an ugly idiot thief.

Glinda took another gulp of ale, and then another, and another, and another. But nothing washed away the images of Avaric bedding Elphaba. In time, Glinda had thought Elphaba might see her. If she kept obedient, kept studying, she might not always stutter when she read. She might not always seem so dull when she spoke. She might have moved past mere convenience. But after all their lessons, after all their twilights, Glinda was still a nothing to Elphaba and to herself. No past and no presence. How happy Elphaba had been. Last night when she came home with books. With Avaric. The two went up to Elphaba's bedroom and talked for quite a while. Had they more than talked? Had Avaric kissed her? Had Elphaba wanted to keep kissing him? Why hadn't she? What stopped them? Propriety? Glinda's presence? Had Glinda given Elphaba a taste of what Avaric could not? Not until they were properly married.

When Pfannee went to dance, Glinda hid in a private room, muffling her cries in a sofa. Boq had found her and brought her more ale. She drank and drank. Till she no longer noticed Boq's hand on her back, till she didn't mind him whispering in her ear, till he didn't look like such a bad idea, till he didn't even look like a Boq at all. Glinda was abandoned. Unloved. Unwanted. Why should she deny him? What did it matter, when she mattered to no one?

After the Philosophy Club, no sooner had Elphaba opened her legs in their bedroom, then she stopped. She bolted from their room, out their cabin, leaving Glinda cracked and raw. It had been several candle marks and Glinda's stomach growled, but she couldn't move, couldn't stop remembering Elphaba's face, the disapproval, the disappointment, the disgust.

POUND!POUND!POUND!POUND!POUND!

She flinched. Who would knock on their door in the middle of the night? Sniffling, she crept out of bed, out their room toward the staircase. From the stairwell, she could see out the kitchen window. Two men stood in Gillikinese civil servant uniforms.

"In the name of the King of Gillikin, I command you: open this door!" one of them shouted.

The King of Gillikin? What would a King want with their cabin? She rushed and opened the door. The two men looked surprised to see her. She stood barefoot, in her thin servant's dress, eyeing them. One soldier was tall and lean, all shoulders, elbows, and knees. His blue eyes round and empty, his cheeks sunken. His companion, in front of him, was thickset, eyes a rum-brown, his face and neck covered in a forest of oily coppery hair.

"We're received official orders to arrest the Munchkinlanders," the woolly one said.

"Which ones?" Glinda asked.

"All the ones in the King's forest!"

"All of them?!" Glinda asked. "But what have they done?"

"They've robbed the King's carriages," Woolly said and pushed the door open, walking in. Glinda stepped aside to avoid a trampling. Arresting Munchkinlanders in the middle of the night? Glinda knew the Weavers stole from Gillikinese traveling carriages, but they took only a tiny fee Pfannee said. The travelers had so much, and the Weavers so little, and Elphaba hadn't stolen anything at all. What right did they have to arrest anyone they pleased?

"Where's your husband?" Woolly asked.

"My husband?"

"Yes, woman! Fetch him! Quickly!" he said.

"I-I—"

The lean one shut her door, leaning against it, and asked,

"Haven't you a husband?"

"He's out," she lied. "He's gone to trade furs."

"And he's left you alone, has he?" Lean asked, staring at her in a way that made her conscious of her breasts.

"He'll be home soon. Maybe even tonight," she said.

"Maybe even tonight?" Lean repeated, in a mockingly high voice. He came near, smelling of festering cheese and piss, and placed a finger under her chin and raised it. Glinda looked away. He slid his other hand through her curls. "You don't have a husband, do you? Bet you're nothing but a doxy," he said, squeezing her hair and wrenching her head back. "Isn't that right, pet?"

Glinda was so nervous she felt tears threatening. Whenever she thought Nessa might hurt her in places she could never remove, all she had to do was think of Elphaba. As long as Elphaba was near, she was all right. Everything would be fine. But Elphaba wasn't near, and if she came near now, it would only get worse. She couldn't even think on her. Stay away. Don't come home. Not yet. Not until they're through with me.

"Enri, stop teasing her and help me search the cabin," Woolly said.

"I _am_ searching," Enri said, his other hand pulling the top of Glinda's dress away from her skin. He looked down it and Glinda felt her face go hot. "The Unnamed God's been generous to you," he said and Glinda's stomach flipped. She wanted to slap his hand away, but she was too terrified that he might force her to endure much more than looking.

"Come on," Woolly barked. "We still have thirty more miles to search."

Enri sighed and released her and followed after Woolly as he climbed the stairs. Glinda fixed her dress and slid toward the door. She could run. But if she did, they would assume she was hiding something, most likely someone. And where would she run? She didn't know how many other officers were out there. She couldn't lead them to the Weavers. And if she left and they stayed, Elphaba would return without even a warning. But if she didn't leave, she needed an answer. Fast. They would find them soon enough. Elphaba and Nessa's things. All of them clearly designed by Munchkinlanders, some even with the imprint of the royal seal. Think, Glinda, think! But before an answer came, Woolly did. He charged downstairs with Nessa's dresses, screaming,

"Woman! What are these?"

"Dresses," Glinda answered like a nitwit, inhaling a stone terror.

Throwing them, he dove at her, grabbing her throat, pulling her away from the door.

"Don't be smart with me! These aren't Gillikinese dresses. How did you get them? Is your husband a Munchkin?"

Glinda shook her head. Painful air bubbled in her throat. Woolly clenched harder.

"Why do you have them?"

"I told you.. my husband…he trades," Glinda pushed out, the pressure in her head building, her eyes almost popping, "He… trades…with them."

"How does one get _these_ with wolf pelts?!" Enri said coming down the stairs with Elphaba's oils and jewelry box.

"You dare lie to the Sheriff of Runcible?" Woolly asked, shaking her head into a bob.

"No…sir…pleassse!" she gurgled.

"I know a way we can get her to tell the truth," Enri said, grabbing his impudence.

The sheriff smirked and threw Glinda back a few steps. She coughed, rubbing her neck, trying to coax the air back in, moving backward into the corner.

"We'll have to save that for later," the Sheriff said.

"You don't believe her, do you?" Enri asked.

"Of course not, but we've too many miles to clear. We'll make another visit. In the meantime, we'll take these for our troubles," the Sheriff said, pointing to the oils and jewels.

"No, please!" Glinda said, running toward Enri. She had stolen Elphaba's jewels before; she couldn't afford to lose any more. She grabbed Enri's closed fist. He laughed, raising his arm, lifting Glinda off the floor.

"Think you can lie and steal from the King?" the Sheriff asked. He punched her cheek. She toppled, stumbling backward, ankles twisting. A packed heat burrowed across her cheek, through her jaw, scorching her eyes. He grabbed her by the shoulders and flung her, smacking her head against the wall. She lost her breath. His body pressed into hers. He snatched her face, sinking his fingers into her fresh bruises. "The King of Gillikin can take whatever the King wants. And as the His Royal Highness's arm in this forest, I take whatever I want." he said, squeezing her cheekbones so hard Glinda was sure they would shatter. Glinda shut her eyes, willing it to be over.

He lifted her chin and spit. His sticky warmth landed on her nose, dribbled down her mouth and onto her collarbone.

"Do you hear me?" he asked. "Say it. Say 'yes, sir!'"

"Yes, shir," she slithered through her squashed lips.

He laughed and released her. She wiped her face while the men opened Elphaba's jewelry box—pulling out rings and necklaces—and let themselves out. Glinda slid down the wall. She rocked back and forth, back and forth. Elphaba, where are you? Have they caught you? Are you hurt? Are they taking you somewhere? All she could do was hope. That Elphaba was still alive. That she would come back unharmed. That this terrible night would end. Her eyelids grew heavy and when she opened them again she saw the noon light outside and Elphaba's mantled figure enter the open cabin door.

The Munchkinlander stopped at the stairs, hesitating. Glinda didn't.

"You're alive!" she shouted, rushing toward her.

Elphaba gasped—apparently not expecting Glinda to be asleep on the kitchen floor—and stumbled back a step. Glinda halted mid-stride, remembering how Elphaba had left. She kept her gaze on her feet, afraid to see a hint of that earlier disgust.

"Glinda?" Elphaba whispered.

"I thought they caught you," Glinda said, biting her lip, her teeth and lips the last dam against her feelings. "I didn't know what to do. I tried to stop them. I promise you, I did!"

"Stop who? Who came?"

"The Sheriff of Runcible and his officer."

"A Gillikinese sheriff _here_?" Elphaba asked, looking around the cabin as if they might be hiding in a corner.

Glinda nodded.

"Please don't be angry with me."

"Angry? Of course I'm not angry," Elphaba said, coming near and then gasping. "Oz blood! What have they done to you?" she asked, lightly fingering the bruise on Glinda's cheek and trailing down to the ones on her neck.

"I'm fine," Glinda said, twisting away. How could she even begin to recount what happened? It was too humiliating.

Elphaba stopped between a stand and a lean, apparently unsure if she would be welcome any closer.

"I'm so sorry, Glinda," she said.

"Where were you? Why didn't you come home?" Glinda asked.

"I—" Elphaba said, only to be interrupted by a man's voice.

"Everything all right?"

Glinda's heart sank. Avaric. Of course. Elphaba didn't come home last night because she had Avaric. A _husband_ could keep a wife safe. Avaric walked inside behind Elphaba and rested his arm on her shoulder, a touch so common it apparently warranted no attention from Elphaba who continued to study her. Elphaba's hair was unbraided. It was never undone. Did Avaric do this? Glinda couldn't bring herself to look any lower. She didn't want to think about his hands anywhere else. Not when their heights perfectly matched, not when their clothes perfectly complimented, not when they looked like two halves of an unparalleled perfect whole. Only Elphaba could hurt her. Only Elphaba's imminent departure could pain her worse than the Sheriff's beatings. Why did Elphaba have to kiss her? Why did she have to unlock her with those soft skilled lips? Pull her heart through her mouth like she did? Why did she have to make her think she was wanted? Glinda couldn't look at the handsome couple any longer. Feeling a cry build, she covered her mouth and dashed upstairs.

"Glinda!" Elphaba called, chasing her.

Reaching their bedroom, Glinda stopped dead. The sheriff and his officer had torn it apart, ripping their bed sheets, scattering Avaric's books, smashing Elphaba's quills, and littering the mess across their floor. She knelt down and collected their writing utensils when it hit her like an east gale. They were coming apart. Like this room. They couldn't return to their quiet evenings by the fire. Their sensuous sunset lessons. Their peaceful nights sleeping bed by floor.

Behind her, Elphaba gasped. She came in, shut the door, and knelt by her, taking the quills from her hand, setting them down beside her.

Glinda's heart was so heavy, her feelings fell out her mouth. "Why did you do it?" she asked, turning to face Elphaba on her knees, noticing, in the sunlight, her eyes. Circled and dark. Had Elphaba slept at all last night?

"It…I…" Elphaba stopped.

"Why did you kiss me if you thought I was _coarse_?" Glinda asked, anger mounting.

"I—" Elphaba started again.

How dare Elphaba look pained? How dare she look injured. It was Elphaba who was leaving!

"Tell me! Why did you do it?" Glinda shouted and Elphaba jumped. "Why did my lady kiss me when she's engaged?"

"What did you say?" Elphaba asked, surprise morphing into disbelief.

"Pfannee told me."

"Pfannee? And did she tell you just whom I'm to marry?"

Why was Elphaba doing this? Why was she being so cruel? Why was she making Glinda say it?

"To Avaric of course!"

" _Avaric_?!"

"Well, aren't you?" Glinda asked. "Aren't you in love with him?"

Elphaba's eyes widened.

"In love with that oaf?" she asked.

Don't hope. Even if Elphaba wasn't. Even if she didn't love him. It didn't mean Elphaba would stay.

"You aren't engaged to him?" Glinda asked, her stomach flexing, waiting for the hatchet to descend.

" _No_!" Elphaba said, clearly confused why Glinda needed further convincing.

"But you stayed the night with him!" Glinda pressed.

"I stayed because I didn't think you would want me _here_. Not after what I did," Elphaba said. "I didn't think you would ever want to see me again. And you don't have to."

"What do you mean?" Glinda asked, the resolve in Elphaba's tone more frightening than her rumored engagement.

"I release you," Elphaba whispered, exhaling into a slump.

"Release me?"

"I release you from your debt to this family. You may stay with the Weavers," Elphaba said, before she swallowed and corrected herself, "with…Boq."

"You're dismissing me."

"You silly thing! I'm freeing you!"

Elphaba was her only good memory. What did freedom mean without Elphaba's tutelage, without Elphaba's praises, without Elphaba's care? What use was freedom when it came with a life sentence to marry a man she didn't love? Glinda couldn't imagine touching Boq again—not even after barrels of ale, not even if he promised that her potato-peeling days were behind her—let alone live with the man, tuck him into bed, bear his children, bare herself. What a steep price for one measly kiss!

"Please give me another chance," Glinda pleaded. "My actions have been shameful, to do those things in front of the Weavers, in front of Lady Nessa. But, I can make up for it. I can apologize. I'll do extra chores. And I can be smarter. I can study harder. I—"

" _Glinda_ —"

"I may be ugly, but I can keep clean. I'll keep my hair up, my nails neat. I'll bathe twice a day, thrice, no five times a day if my lady wishes for it. I'll—"

"Stop this, Glinda!" Elphaba said, placing a finger on her lips. "You are smart. And very pretty."

"But not to you," Glinda whispered.

"Don't you understand, you little idiot?! You're the most beautiful thing I've ever laid my eyes on."

Was Elphaba making fun of her?

 _I want your ugly body removed from my rafters._

 _Have you no self-respect?_

 _Who reaches for the unrefined and coarse in the sober light of day?_

"But you said, you said I was—"

"I was jealous!" Elphaba burst, "I said—and did—those vile things to you because I want you desperately, but I can't have you."

"You want me?" Glinda asked, disregarding the rest.

"I should think it rather plain?"

"Desperately?" Glinda asked, needing to hear it again, all of it, every bit.

Elphaba crossed her arms and said quietly, very quietly, and rather too quickly,

"Desperately, fearfully, maddeningly!"

Glinda wasn't sure it was real. She wanted to pinch herself, but she couldn't budge. Elphaba Thropp wanted her. Elphaba Thropp thought her beautiful. Smart. Elegant. Marvelous. Elphaba. Thropp. Those deep brown eyes. Those soft green lips. Those sharp high cheekbones. That warm stunning brilliance. My, oh my, oh my.

"But, I support your—your—" Elphaba swallowed, as if trying to get the words properly arranged, as if trying to obediently herd them from her mouth, " _relationship,"_ she managed, " _—_ with Boq," and drooped even further, her collar bone dissolving.

There was no relationship. Nothing between them at all. Didn't Elphaba know? Didn't Elphaba understand? Kissing Boq didn't make her feel pretty, or worthy, or wanted but like a parched and punctured earth.

"It was a mistake! I don't want him. I've never wanted him," Glinda said and before she could stop herself, "I've only ever wanted you."

Elphaba's gaze stuck to the floor, eyes unblinking, expression impenetrable. In the shadow of Elphaba's silence, Glinda felt smaller than she ever had.

"How can you possibly say that after what I've done?" Elphaba asked.

But Elphaba hadn't done anything.

"You stopped," Glinda said.

"What I did was unforgivable. I had no right. I hurt you. I touched you in that horrible, despicable manner. I—"

"Stopped. You stopped," Glinda said again. Elphaba looked at her, eyebrows furrowed, clutching her elbows. "You wouldn't hurt me. I told you. Please let me stay on as your servant," Glinda begged.

Elphaba shook her head.

"I forbid it, Glinda."

The blonde's vision rolled as if the ground beneath her were water.

"I meant it: I release you," Elphaba said. "You're free. You are free to go and live where you please. You're no one's servant."

What did she say?

"Anywhere?" Glinda asked. "Anywhere I please?"

Elphaba nodded.

"Here, if I please?"

"Here, if you should like," Elphaba said, looking at her lap.

"But not as your servant?"

"That's right," Elphaba said.

"But then as what?" Glinda asked.

Elphaba cleared her throat, smoothing an imaginary wrinkle in her dress, before she raised her chin but not her eyes, and whispered,

"I believe they're called friends…that is if you could ever want a friend like me."

Glinda leaned back on her knees. The full significance of Elphaba's proclamation hit her in the chest, stunning her silent. Elphaba looked up, slowly, as if preparing herself for rejection.

"I do!" Glinda said, falling forward and pressing her lips to Elphaba's cheek. Elphaba stiffened, but Glinda felt her face lift into a smile, her body soften. Until the door opened. Elphaba stood so quickly she almost fell. Avaric guffawed.

"Can't you knock?" Elphaba asked, catching her balance.

Looking at the two, he grinned.

"I hope I haven't missed anything. Please, as you were," he said, gesturing to the floor.

"Say something useful or get out!" Elphaba said, walking to close the door.

Avaric winked at Glinda as if they had been colluding. Did he approve of them? Was this the reason for his juvenile humor? To get Elphaba to admit her feelings for her? Glinda had been so busy wondering how Elphaba felt about Avaric that she hadn't considered how he felt about them. The thought of him silently cheering them on made Glinda, against her better impulses, wink back. He grinned and said in a rush before Elphaba closed the door on him,

"Your sister comes with Boq and Pfannee!"

 _Nessarose_! Dear Oz! Glinda had forgotten about her. She hadn't come home yesternight either, but Glinda hadn't worried. Death and danger felt impotent before Nessa's temper. She could still see that murderous look in Nessa's gaze, still feel the heat of her slap. And surely she wasn't finished. Elphaba looked at her and said,

"You're white as a sheet."

"Lady Nessarose shall kill me."

"She won't touch you," Elphaba said and extended her hand. "Come. You have my word."

Glinda wondered if Elphaba really knew her sister at all, but she wouldn't lose this chance. Clutching Elphaba's hand and rising to a stand, Glinda expected Elphaba to hold hers like a mitten but instead, she threaded their fingers like a glove. Glinda's stomach veered into a warm excitement that by the end of the stairs had fizzled. Nessa, warming herself by the fire, turned and glared with such frost Glinda's stomach shriveled. She looked away, only to fall into Boq's gaze. He stared at her with the adoration of a loving suitor. She couldn't hold his feelings nor could she redirect them. Her eyes darted left and landed on Pfannee who glared at Avaric, arms crossed over her chest. It was as if they were in the middle of a silent argument; Pfannee had the upper hand. That look on her face. It was how Elphaba looked at the club. Angry. Shocked. Disappointed.

The tension was cut by Nessa who in a yell demanded to know why Glinda was still in their cabin. Glinda shrank but Elphaba squeezed her hand and said,

"She's staying. If you can't be civil to her, you are free to leave."

Nessa's mouth fell open.

"You would choose that harlot over your own blood?"

"I would choose benevolence over a lifetime of enmity. You may make your own choice."

Nessa was either too angry or too shocked to reply. Rather her lips puckered and curled inward as if she had no teeth in her gums. At her silence, Pfannee asked Glinda to explain what happened with the Sheriff. Glinda did, omitting the most embarrassing parts and ending her story with the Sheriff stealing Elphaba's oils and jewels. Elphaba sighed.

"There's more," Glinda added, hesitating, wishing someone else could announce it.

"Go on now," Pfannee said.

"They're coming back," Glinda said.

"I suppose to take the table and the chairs?" Elphaba snapped.

Glinda shook her head.

"To see my husband," she said. Elphaba's hand went limp in hers.

"Your husband?" Boq squealed. "You're married?"

"Of course not!" Glinda said. "At least I don't think so."

"But why—" Boq started.

"Unmarried Gillikinese women don't live by themselves," Avaric explained. "They live with their fathers, their husbands, or their masters. Glinda couldn't say she was serving Munchkinlanders, so she made up a husband."

Glinda nodded and Boq pressed his palm to his chest in relief.

"None of you can stay here now," Pfannee said.

"Just where are we to go?" Nessarose asked.

"We'll house you," Pfannee offered.

"You would have us live with commoners?" Nessa asked, taking a step back, her lips twisting.

"You're welcome, you ungrateful little froward worm!" Pfannee said.

"Forgive my sister's small-heartedness, Pfannee. But, I must agree that we can't accept your kindness. We've nothing to offer you now," Elphaba said. The sisters had paid the Weavers for their various meats and services, a necklace here, a diamond there, but now they had nothing.

"Don't be a clay-brained fool, Elphaba. Jewels or no jewels, Weavers don't abandon their own to any sheriff," Pfannee said.

"If you mean what you say, then Glinda and Nessa will accompany you at once," Elphaba said.

Elphaba's omission hadn't escaped Glinda.

"And where will you go?" she asked, her stomach frothing. There was only one other place Elphaba spent her time. And, yet, Elphaba managed to say somewhere even worse.

"Here?!" Glinda asked.

"Not that any of us would miss you, but why would you?" Pfannee asked.

"She's waiting for our dear brother, aren't you Fabala?" Nessa asked.

Elphaba eyed her sister.

"But what if he never comes back?" Boq asked.

"My sister has a guarantee. Don't you, Fabala?" Nessa said.

Elphaba's expression turned stern, as if warning Nessa it would better for her if she did not open that conversation.

"And if the Sheriff captures you, how will you wait for your brother then?" Avaric asked.

"My leaving is not up for discussion. Shell won't come home to an empty cabin or to an ambush!" Elphaba declared.

"Then I'll stay with you," Glinda said.

Elphaba turned, her pointedness all but evaporating, as she said,

"No, my pretty. It isn't safe for you."

Her pretty? Glinda held her breath. Everyone did. Elphaba could be considerate, protective, even caring on occasion, but never affectionately doting, especially not in public. Recognizing her slip, the Munchkinlander changed colors. But Glinda wouldn't consent, no matter how adorable Elphaba looked.

"You said I was no longer your servant," she said.

"No longer our servant?" Nessa asked, incredulous.

"We'll talk about it later," Elphaba hissed, before she returned to Glinda. "Listen to me—"

"You said I could stay where I wanted."

"Yes, but this is diff—"

"Oh, let her, Elphaba! It might help," Avaric said and Elphaba glared with such fierceness, he needed to look away and rub his beard for comfort while he said, "Just think about it. If Glinda disappears they'll know her story was a lie, and that might raise suspicions."

"Her story _was_ a lie, you imbecile!" Elphaba said.

"Not if I play her husband," Avaric countered.

Glinda's stomach fell. Boq's mouth dropped. Nessa scoffed. Pfannee's hands came to her hips, and Elphaba's mouth wound tighter than Glinda thought possible.

"What?" Elphaba asked.

"Do you have a better candidate?" he asked. "If I play her husband, they might leave your cabin and these parts of the forest alone."

"He might be right," Nessa said, "How long can we stay up a tree, Elphaba? Let them try."

"Of course you would want to live with her!" Pfannee said, and somehow Glinda knew the Munchkin didn't mean her.

"Only until the Sheriff returns," Avaric said, looking at Pfannee in a sincere, pleading, almost apologetic manner. Pfannee turned up her nose. Elphaba was even less impressed.

"You will not risk Glinda's life with this ridiculous scheme!" she shouted.

"Isn't Glinda's life hers to decide?" Avaric asked, turning before Elphaba could glower again. "What do you say, dear Miss Glinda? What do you want?"

She wanted a life with Elphaba. A safe, warm, and happy life. She wanted a forest free from the Sheriff. And she wanted the Weavers who loved this forest, to live in peace, free to forage and build as they liked.

"If you think it could work, I will play your wife," she decided.

"Then it's settled!" Avaric said to everyone's annoyance except for Nessarose who was already packing up kitchen plates.

The group stayed for a few hours and planned. They decided the cabin would need a hidden basement for Elphaba when the Sheriff returned. The Weavers and Avaric would start building tonight. And Avaric would need new clothes. It was against regulations for soldiers to wear their uniforms if they weren't on duty. Glinda too. She would need a Gillikinese dress that fit a merchant wife. A Munchkin tailor tomorrow would come by to take their measurements.

After Nessa packed up some dresses and what little valuables the soldiers had missed, Elphaba, Glinda, and Avaric saw them off from the doorway.

"Let me walk you," Avaric said as Pfannee turned to leave.

"We're only a few trees down," Pfannee tossed over her shoulder.

"It would be my pleasure," Avaric said, chasing after the woman who was already several paces ahead.

"Take good care, my Nessy," Elphaba said, hugging her sister tightly.

"Why must you be so stubborn?" Nessa said in a tone without any bite and a good bit of worry.

"I'll be fine," Elphaba said. "Don't worry about me."

Nessarose sighed and, without even looking at Glinda, turned and made her way after Pfannee and Avaric. Boq was left. His hot gaze roamed over Glinda, making her feel as if she landed in a barrel of mites.

"Miss Glinda, I wanted to say—" Boq said and stalled, his clasped hands fidgeting at his chest. He looked at Elphaba, apparently trying to communicate with her silently. His messages met the blind. "Elphaba," he said, resorting to voice, "You were so wonderful to take care of Glinda yesterday, but I must ask you to leave us alone. So we can sort things out."

Elphaba rolled her eyes and turned to leave, but Glinda wouldn't have it. She wouldn't let Elphaba think for a moment there was anything to sort. She grabbed Elphaba's arm and said,

"It would be so good of you to stay."

Elphaba raised an eyebrow. Glinda was sure she was going to decline, but she merely shrugged and said to Boq.

"Apparently I'm needed."

"Then I'll be brief," he said, "Miss Glinda, I know our friendship has been—has been—"

"Unrealistic? Imaginary? Nonexistent?" Elphaba offered.

"Short-lived!" Boq huffed. "And I realize you may have never considered me as a marriage prospect. I mean there is the difference between our cultures and our—"

"Sizes?" Elphaba offered again.

Elphaba's little quips sutured Boq's speech into a comedy. Glinda would have laughed if it weren't for the Munchkin's presence. How could Elphaba even think him a rival for her affections?

"If you must stay Elphaba at least let me speak for myself!" Boq said, standing straight but gaining no more than an inch.

"My apologies," Elphaba said without sounding apologetic.

"Miss Glinda, I've been overwhelmed by your beauty for such a long time. You are the moon in the season of shadow light. You are the mythical sea under the long winter frosts. You are—"

"Surely bored with this over-rehearsed monologue," Elphaba interrupted again.

"Really, Elphaba," Boq said, growing impatient, "if I thought you would be so offended on your sister's behalf, I would have apologized to you first!"

"Who can muster offense under this tedium," Elphaba said, "Are you finished yet?"

"I would be if not for your endless commentary!" Boq said in a tone that made Glinda start.

"Please do let him finish," Glinda said, not wanting Boq's pride to sink any lower, nor his speech to drag on any longer.

Elphaba sighed and said,

"I believe we were at she is the mythical sea under—"

"Miss Glinda, I would like to court you with your permission. Will you accept?" he asked.

Elphaba winced. Glinda spoke before Elphaba recovered.

"I cannot let you waste your efforts, Master Boq. Despite my actions at the club, I must confess my affections are committed elsewhere."

"But you kissed me!" Boq said.

'And it was awful,' Glinda thought.

"Awful?" Boq squeaked, crestfallen.

Dear Oz! She had said that aloud! Glinda's frankness even made Elphaba start.

"It was _awful_ of me to be careless with your feelings," Glinda corrected. "Please accept my apologies!"

But Boq couldn't. He persisted, asking Glinda several times who the other man was and if she wouldn't change her mind, until Elphaba, beyond vexed, told him his inquisition was over and slammed the door. Elphaba retreated to their bedroom. Glinda grabbed the broom by the fireplace and followed after her.

When she entered their room, Elphaba was picking up sheets from the floor, muttering to herself,

"The poor fool. I was terrible."

'Terribly endearing,' Glinda thought.

Elphaba looked over her shoulder, wide-eyed. Glinda covered her mouth. Oz be damned. She did it again. It was as if after Elphaba's confession, her mouth no longer felt anything proscribed. Elphaba simpered. Glinda smiled back, bowing her head. The air between them clotting. Elphaba opened her mouth to comment but seemed to think better of it and turned back around.

 _But I can't have you._

Why not? Why hadn't Glinda asked? Why has she gotten so distracted with Elphaba's confession that she hadn't figured out exactly what _friendship_ meant—or more aptly—what it didn't mean? It seemed to be of a different substance than St. Aelphaba and St. Galinda's. Could Glinda ask for their kind? For the touching kind. The cuddling kind. The nippling kind.

Before the obstacles to Elphaba's affections had been obvious: her theft, her low station, her intelligence, or lack there of. But if Elphaba could find her beautiful in spite of her shortcomings, what was there to overcome? What was holding Elphaba back? What was keeping them apart? Glinda swept and scrubbed, scoured, and tidied, anything to distract herself from the untouchable woman beside her. Hours went by. Finally they righted the rooms to go downstairs and see the kitchen completely disheveled. Avaric and a group of Weaver men had dug a nice size basement, but they had left piles of dirt here and there, making the kitchen look like a freshly filled cemetery.

"I'll ready dinner," Glinda said, putting the broom down and looking for a clean pot.

"I'll help," Elphaba said and Glinda faltered. No one helped. As Nessa told her many times, they were _her_ chores to be done by _her_ alone _,_ to amend for _her_ mistakes. But as she watched Elphaba borrow a knife from a Munchkin man and grab a sack of potatoes, she realized Elphaba had more than forgiven her; she had made her an equal. Elphaba paused, apparently not understanding Glinda's confusion until she followed Glinda's gaze. Looking at the potatoes, she flushed in a way that made Glinda's heart trip-trapple and motioned for Glinda to sit beside her. She could do little else.

After the women cooked and everyone ate, the men went to bathe in the river. Elphaba went to prepare Nessa's room for Avaric. And Glinda went to change in their room. She looked at Elphaba's bed. Would Elphaba let her sleep there again? It seemed more terrifying than the first night. To be that close. To confine herself to friendship. To feign drowsiness when her heart would be bouncing in her chest. The door opened and Elphaba popped her head in. Noticing Glinda's state of undress, she raised her eyes and cleared her throat. Glinda's body tingled under Elphaba's warm eyes.

"I wanted to say goodnight," Elphaba said.

"Aren't you coming to sleep?"

"I'll sleep downstairs."

"Downstairs? But there's dirt everywhere," Glinda said as if Elphaba didn't know, as if she could explain Elphaba into bed.

"I'll dust off a chair," Elphaba said.

Despair was unreasonable. It was only downstairs. It was only eight candle marks. Six, knowing Elphaba. But the distance felt insufferable all the same. Would this be it? The extent of them. Knowing what they wanted, but never touching, never lingering, never kissing. No affection allowed. No feelings permitted. Feelings that welled in Glinda's eyes at the most inopportune moments. She whirled around. Control yourself, you child! Gillikinese sheriffs stalked the woods, arresting Munchkinlanders, beating and hanging them, and she cried because Elphaba proposed a new sleeping arrangement. She wiped her chin, catching the droplets.

"Are you all right?" Elphaba asked, entering their room, the door shutting.

With the lump in her throat, Glinda could only murmur. Elphaba came near and placed her hands on her shoulders. Glinda wanted to melt into them. Slowly, Elphaba turned her.

"Clearly you are not fine," she said and then as if suddenly realizing why, blurted, "The Sheriff. Of course," cursing herself before she added, "I can sleep on the floor if you want. I—"

But Glinda didn't want. She grabbed Elphaba's wrists and stared at the bed, tears falling clumsily down her cheek. Too nervous to ask properly, she left her proposition there. Elphaba stopped talking and breathing and glanced at the bed. After a long pause, she asked,

"Are you sure?"

Glinda was. Soon both women were in their shifts, under the single sheet the Sheriff hadn't managed to destroy. Glinda shivered and scooted closer to Elphaba, inhaling that warm spice of her skin and yesterday's oils. Elphaba looked down at her, tucking a blonde curl behind her ear. Elphaba was studying her, her green fingers brushing across her face. It took a moment before Glinda realized Elphaba was counting them. Her bruises. Examining her to see the extent of her wounds. Whether it was their prior confession or her exhaustion, Glinda said,

"In Gillikin, we believe kisses can heal."

Elphaba's fingers stopped. Glinda shut her eyes. How did she do it again? How did she always manage to ruin their moments? Demand more than was necessary? Fail to appreciate the tenderness that was offered? She chided herself until Elphaba's fingers moved with feather lightness over a spot on her neck. The former eminent leaned down and kissed it. Glinda's toes curled. Elphaba repeated her process, planting her lips all around Glinda's neck, her cheeks, lighting up Glinda's body like a glow bug. When Elphaba kissed all of Glinda's visible bruises, she asked,

"Are there any more for me to heal?"

Glinda considered nodding if only so she could feel Elphaba's lips again, but she shook her head. At the woman's silence, Glinda assumed she had fallen asleep. How wrong she was. She looked up to see Elphaba's eyes smoldering. Her want unveiled and building. Glinda's 'fresh dreams' fell deep in her throat. All she could imagine was Elphaba's hands—pinning her wrists, sliding down her ribs, reaching between her legs. Glinda moved up and kissed Elphaba's mouth. Inhaling through her nose, Elphaba let Glinda's lips settle. Glinda felt the warm curves of Elphaba's mouth, its gentle pressure. A soft wetness touched her mouth. Elphaba's tongue was sliding the length of her lips. Glinda gasped. Elphaba pulled the blanket down, leaned over, and kissed her. Entering her mouth. Massaging her tongue. How lovely. Elphaba tasted of mint and a pinch of salt. Elphaba rolled her on her back and kissed up her neck. Glinda's chest rose, and Elphaba growled so deep Glinda squeezed her thighs together. Glinda's mind grew foggy. She couldn't feel her hands, which had risen to the base of Elphaba's breasts, until Elphaba clammed up.

"Don't! Don't touch me, Galinda" Elphaba said in an unmistakably frightened tone. Glinda scooted away. Elphaba never called her by that name.

"Did I do something wrong?" Glinda asked.

Elphaba rolled onto her back and looked at the ceiling, trying to steady her breath. It was as if Elphaba was lost in herself.

Glinda had given Elphaba's past only fleeting considerations. But, now she wondered if Elphaba hadn't loved someone before the war. As the former eminent, Elphaba was sure to have had suitors. Hundreds of them. The finest men Oz had to offer. She might have fallen for one. She might have been engaged. Even if she didn't love Avaric, even if she did want her, that didn't mean Elphaba didn't also love someone else. Perhaps even more.

"Are you promised to someone?" Glinda breathed.

Elphaba snorted and shook her head.

"Are you in love with someone else?" Glinda asked.

Elphaba turned on her shoulder, facing her, seeming to wonder where Glinda's line of questioning was coming from. She shook her head again.

What other reason could there be? Glinda had gone through her deficiencies. Every one. Except. Her. Sex. In Gillikin, relationships between women were forbidden. Glinda didn't know how she knew this, but she did. Among Munchkins, Glinda thought it was different. Pfannee was different. The Philosophy Club was different. Elphaba's kiss was different. But what if it all those differences didn't matter to Munchkin royalty? What if they had their own rules? Or what if Elphaba wanted more for herself? Things Glinda couldn't give her, things like an heir.

"Is it because I'm a woman? Would you prefer me to be—to be—" Glinda stammered. She couldn't ask…for what would she do if Elphaba said yes?

But Elphaba shook her head and said with firmness,

"I prefer you the way you are."

"But what is it then? What's wrong with me?"

The Munchkinlander looked down and kept quiet for so long, Glinda wondered if Elphaba wasn't done talking. But then she spoke in a voice that sounded so unlike the confident eminent Glinda knew,

"I didn't choose it before."

Glinda's chest smarted. Of all the things Elphaba might say. Of all the things that might have kept them apart. Glinda never imagined this. Who could do this? What sort of villain would hurt Elphaba like this? She remembered those times Elphaba seemed so distant, so lost, so tortured. Someone _had_ tortured her. Forced her against her will.

"I'll kill him!" said Glinda in a quiet whisper.

"It wasn't a him," said Elphaba, quieter still.

A woman. A woman violated Elphaba?

 _There's not a Gillikinese from Runcible who isn't a monster!_

Glinda put a hand to her mouth and shook her head. It was clear now.

"She was from Runcible," Glinda said.

Elphaba flinched, confirming her suspicions.

"Do I resemble her? Do we—do we share the same name?" Glinda asked.

Elphaba shut her eyes tight.

"Sweet Lurline! How can you stand me?" Glinda said and had the strongest impulse to take their kitchen knife to her face. Or an ember from the fire. Anything not to look like that Gillikinese beast.

"You're nothing like her," Elphaba said, opening her eyes, clutching Glinda's shoulder, "I thought you would be. But you're kind, you're tender, you're intelligent. You're altogether lovely. I want you, Glinda. I want you just the way you are. But," Elphaba swallowed, "I don't know how to forget her, you see. And I'm afraid I never will. And even if I did, there's not just my past but yours," her hand falling.

"I'm not going back," Glinda said and Elphaba opened her mouth to interrupt but Glinda wasn't finished. "If you meant what you said about my freedom, allow me to put the ghost of Galinda to rest."

Elphaba looked as is if she wanted to grant Glinda's request but yet seemed unable to allow herself the pleasure.

"I may not be able to make you forget that monster, but I can try," Glinda said.

"And if I can't? If I can't ever be with you properly?" Elphaba asked.

"Then I shall be with you improperly."

"I'm serious," Elphaba said, her fist squeezing the sheet between them. "You deserve someone who is free to be with you."

"That presupposes I'm free to be with someone who isn't you!"

Glinda didn't get any farther with Elphaba that night, but neither did she fall back. Rather, she stayed nestled against Elphaba's bony figure. She woke in the night to find Elphaba's sinewy arms wrapped around her and took it as permission to do the same. She wrapped her arms around Elphaba's neck and snuggled into the warm damp flesh of her shoulder, and like a mischievous child she extended her tongue and tasted the salt of Elphaba's skin.

Weeks passed and Glinda barely saw Elphaba. Escorted by Weaver archers, the former eminent would leave at the top of the day to visit Nessa. After her visit, she stayed with the Weavers, teaching them to read in exchange for her sister's safekeeping and for any extra oils they managed to steal for her. Glinda stayed in the cabin, preparing meals, waiting on Avaric and the Weaver men, cleaning as best she could, and praying that the basement would be finished before the Sheriff came back or that he might forget about her completely. When Elphaba came home in the early evenings, she would eat her dinner standing by the window and afterward collapse into bed. Some nights when Pfannee came home with her, they might all succeed in collectively begging Elphaba to sing, Avaric volunteering a few Gillikinese ballads of his own. While the two sang, Pfannee taught Glinda regional Munchkin dances. Elphaba's eyes traced her every move around the cabin, making Glinda go feverish and wet. The singing would stop and Pfannee would retreat to Avaric's room and Glinda to Elphaba's. No sooner would the door close than Elphaba's hands would be on her. With an unexpected deftness, Elphaba undressed her, as if she knew her clothes better than she did. Her fingers lingering in places that made Glinda blush. But as soon as she was stripped to her chemise, Elphaba stopped. The Munchkinlander would slip into bed, rolling onto her side, facing the door, and Glinda would climb in, frustrated and aroused, and lie on her back, counting backward to calm herself.

She expected a similar agenda when Elphaba came home with Pfannee tonight, a week after the basement was finally finished. But Elphaba surprised her. The woman couldn't stop smiling, a bounce to her step, a giddiness to her motions that she wore with an awkward newness, like hand-me-down clothes. Hiding a parcel behind her back, she pulled Glinda upstairs and into their bedroom.

"They've finished them," she said, handing Glinda the bundle that was tied in bearskin and a thick cord.

Elphaba's smile was gift enough. In moroseness Elphaba was gorgeous but in felicity she was beyond breathtaking. Hurry now, Elphaba whispered. Glinda smiled and untied the parcel to find a pink merchant gown, a beige petticoat, a near-black mockado shawl, and a leather corset.

"They're beautiful," she said, pressing her fingers along the lace hem of the shawl.

"Try them on," Elphaba said in a voice that made Glinda's stomach tighten like a mandolin string. Elphaba moved to unbutton her, but Glinda stopped her. Elphaba looked confused.

"Turn around," Glinda ordered.

Elphaba's eyebrow rose.

"Turn around, I said," Glinda said in a mock imitation of Nessa, hands on her hips.

The Munchkinlander smirked, crossed her arms, and submitted. Glinda too wanted to surprise Elphaba. Watching Elphaba's back, Glinda slipped out of her servant's clothing and fastened the corset. Her breasts having got so little attention from her everyday clothing felt strange as they were bound, propped, and laid mostly bare, like an offering on an altar. Fixing her petticoat and gown, Glinda beamed at the rich fabric, its thickness, its color, the way it held her body and made her feel wrapped like a present.

"How do I look?" she asked.

The former eminent turned, a strange expression capturing her features. This wasn't the face Elphaba was supposed to make. This queer brew of horror, disgust, and guilt.

"Don't you like it?" Glinda asked.

Elphaba tried to smile, her lips tight, her teeth hidden.

"Am I that ugly in it?" Glinda asked, her chin falling. She wished she could slide the whole ridiculous outfit off. A commoner wrapped in high linens, velvets, and leathers was still a commoner.

Elphaba came near and said, "You're not ugly. It's not even you."

It was her. It was always her that came between them.

"I look more like her in this, don't I?"

Elphaba grimaced and said, "I'm sorry, Glinda," and turned, escaping out their door.

That evil tyrant. That glutinous pig. That monstrous darkness. That woman who reached where no hand was wanted. Who devoured Elphaba whole. Glinda never wanted to hurt somebody more. Pray she never find her. Because if Glinda ever found Elphaba's Galinda, she would end that woman with own bare hands.

Glinda awoke alone the next morning and an idea came to her immediately. If she looked more like Galinda in her new dress, she would just have to look less like her in other ways. If not a razor to her face, then one to her hair. She got dressed and went downstairs to find Avaric reading at the table. He was taken aback by her new appearance.

"You're very beautiful," he said.

Glinda had no time for pleasantries.

"Good morning, Master Avaric. Do you know where Pfannee is?" she asked.

"Don't you mean Elphaba?" he asked. "All night she's been downstairs rearranging the basement, making a—"

"I meant Pfannee," Glinda insisted.

"Oh, well, she's in the barn tending to the goats. But don't you want to see what Elphaba's done with the—"

Before he finished, Glinda dashed out. She didn't want to see Elphaba until she was properly remade. She found Pfannee filling the goat troughs. Pfannee's eyes grew. She looked her over, rubbing the fabrics and touching her skin. Glinda took a step back from all the touching and told the Munchkin of her wish. Pfannee grinned and said she'd be delighted to help. Glinda sat down on a stool. Pfannee grabbed the sheers from the wall and snippet by snippet, curl by curl, she cut Glinda's hair, until it was short and boyish. When Pfannee finished, Glinda stood up, feeling her hair.

"Is it all right?"

"It rather suits you," Pfannee said. "And here I always thought it was Elphaba who was the more mannish between you."

Glinda blushed.

"Do I look different? Do I—" Glinda's throat closed. She saw them outside through the barn window. The Sheriff and his officer laughing and heading straight for them. No more than thirty feet away. "Pfannee, get to the basement. Make sure Elphaba's there too," Glinda hissed, grabbing the woman's shoulder, pulling her to the back door.

"What's wrong, Glinda? We can fix your hair here if you don't like it," Pfannee offered.

"It's not my hair. Tell Avaric the Sheriff's come! I'll try to distract him for as long as I can. But you must get to the basement with Elphaba! Promise me you'll keep her there until he's gone!"

"I promise," Pfannee said, her lip trembling.

* * *

 **A/N:** Thank you for your comments and reviews! I am so grateful for you all: the readers I've gotten to know and each and every one of the anonymous guests who left encouraging words. You've all kept me writing. Wishing you all every good thing for 2018. xoxo.


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